By  Cyrus  Townsend  Brady 


And  Thus  He  Came 
The  More  Excellent  Way 


O    GOD1"     SHE    CRIED,    "DON'T    COME     HEREI       I     DIDN'T     UNDER- 
STAND—YOU    SAY    YOU    LOVE    ME— GIVE    ME    A    CHANCE— I— " 


Drawn  by  E.  L.  Crompton. 


(Chapter  //.) 


The  More  Excellent 
Way 

Being  the   Determinative   Episodes  in  the 
Life  of 

Chrissey  de  Selden,  Hedonist 


By 

Cyrus  Townsend  Brady 

Author  of  "The  Island  of  Surprise,"  "Web  of  Steel,"  "The 
Island  of  Regeneration,"  etc.,  etc. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 

ubc    fmfcfcerbocftet    press 

1916 


COPYRIGHT,  1916 
(Under  title  of  Whom  God  Hath  Joined) 

BY 
THE  STORY  PRESS  CORPORATION 


REVISED  AND  ENLARGED  EDITION 

COPYRIGHT,  1916 
(Under  title  of  The  More  Excellent  Way) 

BY 
CYRUS  TOWNSEND  BRADY 


trbc  ftnicfterbocber  press,  Hew 


So 
BILLIE  AND   ELLA  GRAY 

WHOSE   FRIENDSHIP  I   VALUE  HIGHLY  AND    RETURN   FULLY 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE 

Dr.  Brady's  story  was  first  published  as  a  serial 
under  the  title  Whom  God  Hath  Joined,  and  in  this 
form  it  secured  favorable  attention  from  a  very 
wide  circle  of  readers.  The  author  found  later  that 
the  title  selected  for  the  serial  had  already  been 
utilized  for  the  American  edition  of  a  volume  pub- 
lished some  years  back  and  he  decided,  not  on  the 
ground  of  infringement  of  copyright,  because  the 
earlier  story  was  not  protected  by  copyright,  but 
in  a  spirit  of  comity  to  his  friend  the  publisher  of 
the  earlier  book,  to  replace  his  original  title  with 
the  wording  now  selected. 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

The  author  makes  grateful  acknowledgment  to 
J.  Stuart  Blackton  of  the  Vitagraph  Company  of 
Brooklyn,  Ray  Long  of  the  Story  Press  Corpora- 
tion of  Chicago,  and  Edward  D.  Jones  of  Tait  & 
Hays,  Brokers,  of  New  York,  for  valuable  sugges- 
tions and  criticisms  by  virtue  of  which  the  story 
has  taken  its  present  shape.  And  in  making  this 
cordial  acknowledgment,  the  author  couples  it 
with  an  undivided  assumption  of  responsibility  for 
all  that  follows.— C.  T.  B. 

THE  HEMLOCKS 

PARK  HILL,  YONKERS,  N.  Y. 

September,  1916. 


CONTENTS 

BOOK  I 
THE  INSULT 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — BRANDED 3 

II. — A  PASSAGE  AT  ARMS          .        .  13 

III.— ONE  WAY  OUT  ....  26 

IV. — BAFFLED  SUITORS       ...  37 

V. — THE  WOMAN  ON  THE  STAIR        .  46 

VI. — THE  REVELATION       ...  55 

VII. — TEMPTATION       ....  64 

VIII. — THE  VOICE  OF  SOCIETY       .         .  79 

IX. — THE  PLEA  OF  THE  BREAKING     .  89 

BOOK  II 
WEDDED 

X. — AFTERNOON        ....  109 

XI. — NIGHT 118 

XII. — MORNING 125 

BOOK  III 
THE  "STILL-VEXED   BERMOOTHES" 

XIII. — ONCE  MORE  THE  SEA          .         .  141 

XIV.—"  THE  POSY  OF  A  RING  "    .         .  152 


viii  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XV—  "A-E-I" 163 

XVI. — OVERHEARD  IN  THE  DUSK           .  173 

XVII. — AND  THUS  HE  CAME  .         .182 

XVIII. — "LEAD  Us  NOT  INTC/TEMPTATION"  187 

XIX.— THE  MAN  WINS         .         .         .195 

XX. — CAVE  MEN        ....  205 

XXI. — SHE  MUST  Go  ON               .        .  217 

BOOK  IV 

THE    VALLEY  OF  DECISION 

XXII. — ON  DIFFERENT  SHIPS          .         .  227 

XXIII. — "LA  DONNA  E  MOBILE"  .         .  240 

XXIV. — DISAPPROVAL     ....  249 

XXV. — ENCOURAGEMENT         .         .         .  258 

XXVI. — CROSSING  THE  RUBICON      ;        .  273 

BOOK  V 
DIVORCED 

XXVII.— A  BITTER  TASTE        .         .         .283 

XXVIII. — To  MAKE  OR  BREAK          .        .  293 

XXIX. — SWEPT  AWAY     .         .         .  308 

XXX. — RECEIVING  THE  NEWS        .        .  318 

BOOK  VI 

THE   FAILURE 

XXXI.— THE  WOMAN  OF  THE  STREET      .  325 


Contents  ix 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXXII.— HOME 333 

XXXIII. — THE  PLEA  OF  THE  BROKEN  .  339 
XXXIV.— THE  PASSING  .  .  .  .346 

XXXV. — BRAVE  MAN  OR  COWARD  ?          .351 

BOOK  VII 
THE  MORE  EXCELLENT  WAY 

XXXVI.— THE  PRICE  FOR  FOLLY       .         .  359 

XXXVII. — ANOTHER  CHANCE      .         .         .  369 

XXXVIII.— BROKEN  HONOUR        .         .         .378 

XXXIX. — STILL  PLAYING  THE  GAME           .  388 

XL. — OVERRULED        ....  396 

XLL — THE  SURRENDER         .         .         .  407 

XLII. — ONCE  MORE  A  WEDDING  NIGHT  417 


BOOK  I 
THE  INSULT 


CHAPTER   I 

BRANDED 

IN  horror  she  stared  at  the  prostrate  man's 
face,  white  from  unconsciousness  and  whiter  still 
in  the  moonlight.  Shame  and  bitter  resentment 
against  outraged  modesty  and  shattered  hope  filled 
her  heart. 

Although  a  moment  before  she  had  been  in  his 
arms,  as  she  had  certainly  loved  him  in  her  soul, 
now- a  passionate  desire  to  grind  his  face  ruthlessly 
with  her  heel  possessed  her.  She  could  feel  the 
touch  of  his  hot  hand  on  her  cool  flesh.  She  would 
feel  it  forever.  It  seemed  to  her  appalled  fancy 
to  be  impressed  upon  her  white  skin  like  a  brand ; 
as  they  found  dead  Hester  Prynne's  scarlet  letter 
outlined  on  her  breast  beneath  the  character  she 
had  worn  so  long.  Her  neck  and  shoulders,  pearl- 
like  and  translucent  in  the  moonlight,  suddenly 
crimsoned;  whereat  she  was  glad.  The  gules  of 
shame  overspread  and  concealed  the  blot  of 
insult. 

After  the  dinner-party  on  the  terrace  of  the 
Victoria  at  Sorrento  had  broken  up  they  had  come 
together  again.  During  the  repast  they  had  been 

3 


4  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

separated  by  the  length  of  the  table.  Her  escort, 
a  young  Italian  officer  of  the  Bersaglieri,  the  Duca 
di  Attavanti,  had  so  monopolized  her  attention, 
with  John  Warburton  on  the  other  side  of  her  at 
the  head  of  the  table,  that  she  had  scarcely  been 
able  to  do  more  than  exchange  glances  with  Rich- 
ard Neyland  at  the  farther  end.  She  had  caught 
his  eyes  full  upon  her  and  they  had  told  her  un- 
mistakably what  she  had  foreseen  and  indeed 
longed  to  know. 

When  the  women  left  the  table  to  the  men  she 
had  withdrawn  with  the  others  and  had  gone  to 
the  back  of  the  lift  tower  that  rose  above  the  ter- 
race and  provided  a  way  for  the  guests  to  visit  the 
marina  three  hundred  feet  below.  She  had  stood 
there  leaning  over  the  stone  balustrade  looking 
out  across  the  quiet  water  toward  the  row  of  far- 
off  lights  along  the  shore  where  pleasure  loving 
Naples  lay  overshadowed  by  the  huge  bulk  of 
Vesuvius,  its  royal  crown  of  smoke  blotting  out  the 
stars.  The  moon  shone  over  the  still  sea  and  there 
was  a  great  star  over  the  square  tower  on  a  summer 
villa  off  to  the  left.  It  reminded  her  of  Mario  and 
Trovatore  and  Meredith's  Aux  Italiens. 

"The  one  star  over  the  tower,"  she  said  softly 
to  herself,  and  then  Mario  came. 

Back  of  her  through  the  screen  of  olive  trees  in 
their  huge  green  tubs  the  lights  of  the  hotel 
sparkled.  There  were  other  parties  dining  on  the 
terrace.  Laughter,  the  murmur  of  pleasant  voices, 
the  ring  of  touched  glasses,  ice  tinkling  therein, 


Branded  5 

blended  softly  with  the  murmurous  background 
of  that  soft  Italian  night  of  springtime. 

And  so  he  came.  He  had  left  the  other  men 
abruptly  with  a  half-muttered  excuse  and  had 
sought  her.  The  people  on  the  terrace  were  not 
a  dozen  paces  away  but  there  in  the  narrow  pas- 
sage back  of  the  elevator  tower  they  were  alone 
with  the  moon  and  the  stars  and  the  sky  and  the 
sea  and  the  night  wind.  That  she  loved  him  was 
shown  by  the  fact  that  she  recognized  his  step 
albeit  it  had  rung  unsteadily  on  the  hard  tiling  of 
the  terrace.  Although  her  back  was  toward  him 
her  soul  went  out  to  him  coming  as  he  came.  He 
had  stopped  behind  her. 

"Miss  de  Selden — Chrissey — Chris,"  he  whis- 
pered and  then  she  faced  him. 

How  white,  how  handsome  he  looked  in  the 
moonlight;  big,  broad-shouldered,  strong.  How 
well  his  evening  clothes  became  him.  He  swayed 
a  little  as  he  stood  there.  She  thought  it  due  to 
the  violence  of  his  emotions  and  perhaps  it  was  in 
part,  but  something — she  could  not  tell  what,  was 
it  maidenly  hesitation  or  reluctance? — made  her 
shrink  back  against  the  railing.  Her  left  hand 
caught  the  iron  ring  of  one  of  the  tubs  that  held  an 
oleander.  She  would  never  breathe  the  fragrance 
of  that  flower  again,  without  remembering  that 
hour. 

"Mr.  Neyland,"  she  whispered  half-afraid  and 
yet  tremulously  anxious  for  his  next  words. 

She  had  never  lacked  suitors  since  her  brilliant 


6  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

debut  two  years  before.  Men  had  loved  her 
madly  and,  to  do  them  justice,  not  for  her  money 
alone.  It  was  an  open  secret  that  she  could  have 
the  Duca  di  Attavanti  for  the  lifting  of  her  hand. 
Yet  for  all  her  triumph  in  society,  which  had  begun 
a  little  to  pall  upon  her,  she  stood  trembling  and 
expectant  in  that  hour  like  any  romantic  school 
girl,  for  no  one  had  ever  stirred  her  heart  as 
Neyland. 

She  had  almost  come  to  believe  that  she  never 
would  experience  that  unforgettable  thrill  of  re- 
sponsive passion  until  Neyland  had  suddenly 
come  into  her  life.  He  had  set  himself  to  win  her 
and,  moved  by  what  strange  fancy  she  could  not 
tell,  she  had  allowed  herself  to  be  won.  There 
was  no  apparent  reason  why  the  two  should  not 
marry.  In  birth,  in  fortune,  in  education  Neyland 
was  a  fitting  match  for  the  last  little  De  Selden, 
standing  before  him  waiting  like  a  captive  the 
expression  of  the  victor's  will.  In  character?  Ah, 
there  was  a  discrepancy.  She  had  not  detected 
it  but  she  was  soon  to  find  it  out. 

"I  can't  wait  longer,"  said  the  man.  "Why 
should  I?  You  know  that  I  love  you.  You 
can't  know  how  much.  I  can't  measure  it.  It 
grows  all  the  time.  It  is  impossible  that  a  love 
like  mine  should  not  have  awakened  something  in 
your  heart.  I  am  all  humility  before  you  and  yet, 
don't  you — can't  you — ?" 

He  steadied  himself  not  coming  any  nearer  but 
fixing  her  with  his  gaze.  She  had  never  noticed 


Branded  7 

before  how  bright  his  eyes  were.  Under  the  com- 
pulsion of  his  passion  she  answered  the  broken 
interrogation  by  a  slow,  yielding  nod. 

"God!"  he  whispered  in  exultation. 

He  took  a  step  nearer  to  her.  In  a  sudden  in- 
explicable alarm  she  suddenly  thrust  out  her  hand. 
Yet  what  had  she  to  fear  for  he  loved  her  as  she 
loved  him?  Her  open  palm  met  his  breast.  He 
was  checked  for  a  moment  and  although  she  stiff- 
ened her  arm  his  left  hand  clasped  it  and  moved  it 
away  a  little  roughly.  Then  she  was  conscious  of 
the  heavy  odour  of  wine  upon  his  breath.  She 
had  never  known  him  to  drink  a  drop  before. 
And  no  one  had  told  her  that  his  abstemiousness 
was  on  account  of  her,  and  that  it  had  only  been 
practised  since  he  had  made  her  acquaintance. 
She  knew  little  of  his  past. 

He  turned  slightly  as  he  moved  toward  her  and 
his  face  was  at  once  clearly  illuminated  in  the 
bright  moonlight.  She  could  see  every  feature, 
every  expression.  It  was  handsome  still  but 
satyric,  diabolic,  degrading.  It  frightened  her 
although  she  was  yet  uncomprehending.  Now 
Neyland  had  that  deep  and  unbounded  reverence 
for  purity  and  innocence  which  is  more  often  than 
not  exhibited  by  the  rake  who  has  mainly  dealt 
with  the  other  kind  of  womanhood.  Never  had 
he  offered  to  Chrissey  de  Selden  the  least  familiar- 
ity. In  his  treatment  of  her  he  had  been  delicacy 
and  refinement  itself.  She  was  unprepared  for  the 
terrible  unexpected. 


8  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

In  his  senses  Neyland  would  rather  have  died 
than  have  affronted  her  modesty,  outraged  her 
feelings,  and  killed  her  affection.  For  love  of  her 
he  had  abandoned  old  habits,  overcoming  by  hard 
struggle  the  desperate  temptation.  Some  men 
can  play  with  fire  with  impunity  for  a  long  time. 
Neyland  could  scarcely  warm  his  hands  at  the 
blaze  without  getting  burned.  One  drink  was  his 
undoing.  Free  he  was  one  man,  bound  quite 
another.  Some  men  wallow  in  the  pitch  and  seem 
outwardly  for  the  time  being  little  the  worse, 
others  can  not  touch  it  without  defilement. 

So  Neyland  drank  and  fell.  That  which  he 
would  not  he  did  and  that  which  he  would  he  did 
not.  "Most  men,"  said  one  who  knew,  "kill  the 
thing  they  love. "  Neyland's  weakness,  or  rather 
the  sudden  accession  of  strength  he  allowed  to  the 
evil  that  was  in  him,  as  it  is  in  all  of  us,  slew  some- 
thing in  Chrissey  de  Selden.  Resent  it  as  she 
might  she  could  never  after  be  quite  the  same. 

Madly  the  man  rushed  to  his  doom.  For  one 
moment  of  weakness  he  was  to  pay  a  fearful  price. 
And  she,  too,  must  pay.  The  beaded  bubbles  at 
the  brim  of  the  cup  brought  him  to  disgrace  his 
manhood,  and  they  involved  her  in  shame.  He 
did  not  realize  this,  did  not  give  it  a  thought. 
That  would  come  later.  He  only  saw  her,  not  in 
the  high  and  noble  way  in  which  she  usually  ap- 
peared to  him,  but  just  as  a  woman,  beautiful, 
tempting,  loving,  yielding — his  own! 

"Ah, "  he  exclaimed  again  his  voice  still  low  but 


Branded  9 

hoarse  and  fraught  with  something  that  chilled 
her  blood,  "to  possess  you,  beautiful." 

She  stood  like  one  bewitched,  wondering, 
uncomprehending,  afraid.  Her  fears  were  soon 
justified.  Came  to  her  swift  and  appalling  en- 
lightenment. For  suddenly,  so  suddenly  that  she 
could  not  avoid  him,  he  seized  her  in  a  savage 
embrace — an  embrace  that  had  in  it  much  of  pas- 
sion and  little  of  the  love  she  coveted.  He  wrote 
his  character  upon  her,  sign  manual  of  degradation 
indeed!  Shocked  beyond  measure  she  came  to 
life  on  the  instant;  throbbing,  furious,  resentful 
life.  She  thrust  him  from  her. 

That  unsteadiness  she  had  before  noted  and  but 
now  understood  served  him  ill.  She  was  young 
and  strong  and  all  the  force  of  her  body  spurred  on 
by  outraged  modesty  was  back  of  that  thrust.  He 
went  down  as  if  he  had  been  shot.  He  had  not 
time  even  to  think  why  he  had  been  thrust  away 
as  he  clutched  vainly  at  a  little  oleander  on  one 
of  the  posts  of  the  balustrade.  It  did  not  serve 
to  save  him  but  the  tree  was  dislodged  and  fell  over 
the  railing  into  the  gulf  beneath  battering  along  the 
rocky  sides  of  the  cliff  and  crashing  through  the 
silence  of  the  night  like  a  little  avalanche. 

Stunned  as  his  head  struck  the  stone  base  of  the 
tower  he  lay  sprawled  ignominiously  on  his  back, 
his  arms  outflung  on  the  tiles  at  her  feet.  She 
bent  over  him,  hating  him,  loathing  him,  beside 
herself  that  she  had  been  the  unconscious  victim 
of  such  an  affront.  And  that  he  had  gone  down 


io  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

before  a  woman's  hand  added  to  the  contempt  in 
which  she  held  him.  There  was  in  her  heart  a 
sense  of  abasement  that  she  had  fancied  that  she 
loved  a  man  who  could  thus  shamelessly  presume 
upon  the  preference  which  she  had  shown  him. 
Where  she  had  loved  she  despised.  And  she 
made  no  excuse  for  him. 

Little  time  was  allowed  her  for  reflection  for  the 
falling  plant  and  the  crash  with  which  Neyland 
had  gone  down  had  startled  all  on  the  terrace. 
Her  mother  and  Rose  Tayloe,  the  Colonel  and  the 
Duke  and  Warburton  burst  through  the  shrubbery, 
while  running  toward  her  from  every  direction 
came  the  other  guests  of  the  big  hotel.  She  had 
instantly  become  the  center  of  a  scene,  which  she 
hated.  The  man  senseless  at  her  feet  had  brought 
it  about  and  for  that  she  was  the  more  bitter 
against  him  if  possible. 

Indeed  as  she  heard  the  cries  and  saw  friends 
and  strangers  alike  coming  toward  her  she  thought 
she  would  have  fainted.  Her  mother  screamed 
and  Rose  Tayloe  burst  into  a  startled  exclamation. 
The  Duke  muttered  something  in  Italian,  instinc- 
tively reaching  toward  the  place  where  his  sword 
usually  swung.  But  it  was  John  Warburton  who 
acted.  He  usually  acted  first  in  a  crisis.  He  shot  a 
swift  glance  at  his  ward  and  then  turned  to  the  men. 

"I  suppose,"  he  said  loudly,  "that  Neyland 
slipped  and  fell." 

"Yes,"  answered  Chrissey  de  Selden,  forcing 
herself  to  speak  and  making  a  violent  effort  to  con- 


Branded  n 

trol  her  emotions.  "We  were  talking,  he  leaned 
against  one  of  those  oleander  tubs  and  it  fell  over. " 

"Exactly,"  said  Warburton.  "Here,"  he 
turned  to  the  head  waiter  who  had  come  up  with 
the  others  and  who  understood  English  well 
enough,  "take  Mr.  Neyland  to  his  room  at  once 
and  call  a  physician.  I  will  come  with  you. 
Don't  give  yourselves  any  alarm,  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, I  imagine  it  is  nothing  more  than  uncon- 
sciousness caused  by  striking  against  that  stone 
base  there.  His  head  is  bleeding  but  it  can't 
be  a  concussion.  Duke,  if  you  would  get  these 
people  away  and " 

The  Duke  stepped  toward  the  little  circle  of 
people,  all  Italians,  and  spoke  a  few  words  to  them. 
Courteously  they  bowed  and  withdrew  while  the 
waiters  followed  by  Warburton  carried  the  un- 
conscious man  to  the  elevator. 

"Mother,"  said  Chrissey  de  Selden,  "this  has 
unnerved  me.  If  you  will  excuse  me  Rose,  and 
gentlemen  all,  I  think  I'll  go  to  my  room." 

"  Certainly, "  said  old  Colonel  Tayloe.  "  Come 
Rose." 

"My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  de  Selden  putting 
her  arm  around  her  daughter's  waist  as  the  rest 
of  the  party  save  the  Duke  turned  away. 

"Pardon,  Signorina,"  began  Di  Attavanti,  "it 
is  most  inopportune,  I  know,  and  yet  I  am  not 
satisfied.  Signor  Neyland  has  insulted  you.  He 
was  drunk.  The  terror  of  the  Signorina/ — if 
she  will  allow  me  I  will  demand  satisfaction." 


12  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"No,  no,"  answered  the  girl,  "nothing,  I  forbid 
you.  Oh,  take  me  away." 

The  Duke  bowed  low  before  her  and  stepped 
aside  following  her  with  his  glance.  As  she  entered 
the  hall  he  stepped  after  her,  an  expression  of 
resolution  on  his  lips.  At  the  elevator  they  met 
John  Warburton. 

"How  is  he?"  asked  Mrs.  de  Selden. 

Warburton  noticed  that  the  inquiry  came  from 
the  mother  not  the  daughter.  He  remarked  it 
with  a  leap  in  his  heart. 

"There  happens  to  be  a  French  physician  in  the 
hotel, "  he  answered.  "He  has  examined  him  and 
says  there  is  no  fracture  of  the  skull.  He  was 
just  knocked  senseless  and  in  fact  he  is  quite 
conscious  now.  He'll  be  all  right  in  the  morning. " 

The  Duke  waited  until  mother  and  daughter 
had  gone  to  their  rooms  before  he  began. 

"It  is  imperative  that  I  see  Signer  Neyland  at 
once, "  he  said. 

"Can't  you  wait  until  tomorrow  morning?" 
asked  Warburton  not  in  the  least  suspecting  what 
was  in  the  other's  mind. 

"Not  one  minute." 

"Well  if  he  wants  to  see  you  I  guess  he  can," 
answered  the  other  turning  away.  "The  yacht 
will  sail  for  Genoa  at  ten  o'clock  tomorrow 
morning.  Be  sure  and  be  on  board  in  time, 
Duke." 

"Without  fail, "  said  the  other  bowing  and  turn- 
ing toward  the  elevator. 


CHAPTER  II 

A  PASSAGE  AT  ARMS 

JOHN  WARBURTON  bade  Colonel  Tayloe  and  his 
daughter  good  night  since  no  one  felt  any  particu- 
lar desire  for  further  conversation  after  this  un- 
toward happening.  It  was  late  and  as  he  saw  no 
one  on  the  terrace  he  went  around  the  lift  tower 
to  inspect  the  scene  of  the  accident.  He  placed 
himself  in  the  position  occupied  by  his  ward, 
measured  distances  and  closely  examined  the 
place  left  vacant  by  the  fallen  oleander.  He 
studied  conditions  carefully  with  a  deepening 
frown  on  his  face.  The  head  waiter  passing  he 
stopped  him. 

"Was  there  much  wine  drunk  at  the  other  end 
of  the  table?"  asked  Warburton. 

"A  good  deal,  Signore,  but  not  more  than  gentle- 
men could  carry. " 

"Umph,"  said  Warburton  slipping  a  hundred 
lira  note  into  his  hand.  "You  will,  of  course,  say 
nothing  about  it.  In  fact  I  hope  there  will  be  as 
little  discussion  of  this  accident  as  may  be." 

"The  S ignore  may  rely  on  my  discretion,"  said 
the  man  bowing  himself  away. 

13 


14  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Warburton  nodded  his  head,  his  lips  set  firmly. 
He  thought  he  should  have  something  to  say  to 
Neyland  in  the  morning.  If  he  had  suspected 
what  had  really  happened  he  would  not  have 
waited  until  the  morning  and  words  alone  would 
have  been  inadequate.  When  he  called  for  the 
wine  bill  at  the  office  he  discovered  that  there  was 
indeed  no  extravagance  in  the  quantity  that  had 
been  served.  Neyland  could  not  have  been  drunk 
unless — and  yet — '  In  short  John  Warburton  did 
not  believe  the  accident  story.  Neyland  had  been 
thrown  backward.  Chrissey  de  Selden  had  done 
it,  since  they  were  alone.  Why?  He  ascribed 
her  action  to  an  impulsive  disgust  and  contempt  at 
a  half-drunken  man's  action.  He  never  dreamed 
of  the  seriousness  of  the  affront.  Well  was  it  for 
Neyland  that  Warburton  did  not  suspect,  yet  he 
knew  Neyland's  reputation.  He  would  find  out 
the  truth  in  the  morning. 

John  Warburton  was  a  self-contained  man  long 
since  passed  the  years  of  youthful  extravagances. 
He  had  been  compelled  to  fight  his  way  to  the 
position  he  occupied  against  every  conceivable 
odds,  and  he  had  learned  in  the  school  of  hard 
battling  the  supreme  importance  of  the  sublime 
virtue  of  self-restraint  and  self-control.  To  care- 
less observation  he  was  as  cold-blooded  and  un- 
emotional a  man  as  ever  dominated  a  mad  stock 
exchange  or  sought  to  control  the  markets  of  the 
world.  Yet  now  he  did  a  strange  thing.  His 
heart  leaped  as  he  thought  of  what  sentiments  in 


A  Passage  at  Arms  15 

her  heart  might  have  caused  Chrissey  de  Selden 
to  thrust  Richard  Neyland  away  from  her.  He 
bent  over  and  kissed  the  stone  balustrade  where 
her  hand  had  rested  a  few  moments  since. 

"Pardon,"  said  the  Duca  di  Attavanti  to  the 
physician  coming  out  of  the  door  of  Neyland's 
room,  "but  is  the  Signorem  condition  to  see  me?" 

"He's  perfectly  conscious  if  that  is  what  you 
mean  and  has  sustained  no  serious  hurt,  but  I  do 
not  believe  he  will  want  to  see  any  one,  Monsieur. " 

"That  I  shall  ascertain, "  said  the  Duke  tapping 
on  the  door  as  the  doctor  went  away.  One  of 
the  attendants  of  the  hotel  opened  it.  "Will  you 
tell  Signer  Neyland  that  the  Duca  di  Attavanti 
desires  speech  with  him?" 

Neyland,  overhearing  the  conversation  from 
where  he  lay  on  his  bed,  promptly  answered  for 
himself. 

"Tell  the  Duke  that  I  can't  see  him,"  he  cried. 

"Pardon,"  said  the  Duke  forcing  his  way  past 
the  attendant,  "I  regret  to  intrude  upon  you, 
Signore,  but  you  must  see  me  immediately. " 

Neyland  was  lying  partially  dressed  on  the  bed, 
his  coat  and  vest  having  been  removed.  His  head 
was  bandaged.  He  sat  up  instantly  and  stared 
at  his  obviously  malicious  visitor. 

"You  might  have  waited  until  morning,"  he 
began  with  ill  concealed  hostility.  During  the 
past  week  he  had  noticed  the  Duke's  attention  to 
Chrissey  de  Selden  and  he  resented  it  and  dis- 
liked the  man.  "But  since  you  are  here  please 


16  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

state  your  business  as  briefly  as  possible.  I'll 
not  make  any  apology  for  my  appearance  under 
the  circumstances. " 

"What  passed  between  you  and  the  Signorina 
deSelden  tonight?" 

"What  business  is  it  of  yours?" 

"I  have  had  the  honor  of  asking  the  Signorina 
de  Selden  to  become  the  Duchessa  di  Attavanti. 
You  are  in  love  with  her,  that  is  easy  to  see 

"I  have  made  no  secret  of  it.     Why  should  I?" 

"You  leave  the  table  and  follow  her.  We  hear 
a  crash  and  we  find  you  senseless  at  her  feet  and  she 
herself  in  great  agitation,  not  to  say  terror.  What 
is  the  cause  of  it?" 

"She  might  have  been  alarmed  at  the  conse- 
quences of  the  accident,  might  she  not?"  sneered 
Neyland  rising  to  his  feet  and  confronting  the 
Duke  whom  he  overtowered  by  several  inches, 
but  the  little  Italian  did  not  give  way  at  all. 

"It  was  not  that.  You  have  insulted  her," 
he  said  passionately.  "Some  familiarity — ah, "  he 
cried  as  Neyland's  expression  showed  that  the 
chance  shot  had  hit  the  mark.  "For  a  bow  drawn 
at  a  venture  that  was  a  good  aim. " 

"You  impertinent  meddler,"  roared  Neyland, 
"what  I " 

"What  you  did  matters  not,"  interposed  the 
Duke.  "The  Signorina  evidently  resented  it  as 
best  she  could.  I  will  take  up  her  quarrel  now. 
My  seconds  shall  wait  upon  you  tomorrow  morn- 
ing. My  card. " 


A  Passage  at  Arms  17 

He  proffered  the  bit  of  pasteboard.  Neyland 
struck  it  out  of  his  hand. 

"Tonight,"  said  the  American  beside  himself 
with  rage  staring  at  the  Duke,  flushing  at  this 
additional  insult  but  quite  coolly  confronting  him. 
"The  moonlight  serves.  There  are  doubtless 
quiet  spots  in  the  garden  yonder  where  we  shall 
not  be  interrupted. " 

In  his  senses  Neyland  would  have  laughed  at 
the  idea  of  fighting  a  duel  but  now  he  welcomed  it. 
He  was  overcome  with  shame.  Some  of  the  linger- 
ing effects  of  the  wine  he  had  taken  were  still  with 
him.  He  had  known  perfectly  well  that  he  could 
not  touch  a  drop,  and  ever  since  he  had  met 
Chrissey  de  Selden  he  had  struggled  against  that 
besetting  sin  successfully  and  for  her  sake,  only 
to  lose  that  night  all  that  he  had  gained.  When 
they  had  drunk  her  health  he  for  shame's  sake  had 
joined  in  and  after  that  he  had  drunk  more  and 
more.  Why  that  very  Italian  had  brought  it 
about. 

"The  Signore  does  not  drink  the  Signorinds 
health?"  he  had  said  in  surprise  as  he  observed 
Neyland's  empty  glass.  And  although  one  taste 
of  wine  turned  him  into  a  brute  Neyland  had  taken 
up  that  challenge  just  as  he  took  up  this  one. 

"As  you  will, "  said  the  Duke,  "the  sooner  the 
better.  Your  friend  will  be?" 

Neyland  thought  quickly.  Not  Warburton. 
He  sensed  a  possible  rival  in  John  Warburton  and 
hated  him  although  he  was  his  host  and  had  been 


1 8  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

his  friend.  There  was  old  Colonel  Tayloe.  He 
was  a  Virginian  and  had  been  a  soldier.  He  men- 
tioned him. 

"Captain  Zacchei  of  my  regiment  will  act  for 
me.  The  two  gentlemen  can  make  arrangements," 
said  the  Duke. 

"I'm  ready  now." 

"And  I." 

Neyland  snatched  up  a  coat,  drew  a  cap  over  his 
bandaged  head,  threw  open  the  door  and  waved 
the  Duke  to  proceed.  The  Captain  who  had  been 
one  of  the  guests  at  the  dinner  and  Colonel  Tayloe 
were  sitting  at  one  of  the  small  tables  smoking 
before  going  to  bed.  Neyland  and  the  Duke  drew 
the  two  men  into  one  of  the  deserted  rooms  off  the 
terrace. 

"It's  your  party,"  said  Neyland  to  the  other. 
"You  speak." 

"Signor  Neyland  and  I  have  fallen  into  deadly 
enmity  which  can  only  be  settled  in  one  way," 
began  the  Duke.  "I  have  asked  you,  amico  mio 
to  represent  me." 

"And  I  want  you  to  see  me  through  this  infernal 
muss,  Colonel,"  said  Neyland. 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure,"  answered  Zac- 
chei. 

"Look  here,  my  boy,  this  sort  of  thing  is  all 
damn  foolishness,"  said  Colonel  Tayloe  earnestly. 
"We  Americans  don't  fight  duels,  and  what  are 
you  fighting  about  anyway?" 

"We  do  in  this  instance,"  answered  Neyland, 


A  Passage  at  Arms  19 

"and  the  cause  of  our  disagreement  is — er — the 
nebular  hypothesis.  I  maintain  it  and " 

"I  dispute  it,"  said  the  Duke. 

"Can't  you  compose  this  quarrel  gentlemen?" 
began  the  Colonel,  who  was  in  no  wise  de- 
ceived. 

"If  Signor  Neyland  will  apologize  and  leave 
Sorrento  without  delay. 

"I'll  see  you  damned  first,"  said  Neyland. 

"More  discussion  is  impossible,  gentlemen," 
said  the  Duke. 

"Pardon,  Signor e,"  interposed  Captain  Zac- 
chei,  "what  is  it  to  be?  You  are  the  challenged 
party." 

"I  don't  understand,"  answered  Neyland. 

"Swords  or  pistols?" 

"Swords.  I  haven't  either  and  I  know  little 
about  both. " 

"  Mine  are  at  your  disposal, "  said  Zacchei. 

He  summoned  the  concierge  upon  whose  dis- 
cretion he  could  rely.  A  few  brief  words  put  him 
in  possession  of  the  situation.  Captain  Zacchei 
having  gone  for  his  case  of  swords,  the  concierge 
fetched  the  physician  who  had  already  treated 
Neyland  and  led  the  five  gentlemen  to  a  quiet  open 
spot  in  the  garden  surrounded  by  tall  trees  and 
screened  from  observation  by  hedges.  The  place 
was  brightly  illuminated  by  the  full  moon  and 
the  Duke  pronounced  it  entirely  suitable.  Ney- 
land was  in  no  mood  to  make  objections  and 
Colonel  Tayloe  could  think  of  none.  The  two 


2O  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Americans  had  a  word  or  two  while  approach- 
ing the  place  of  meeting. 

"Colonel,"  said  Neyland,  f'I  acted  like  a  black- 
guard to  night.  I  wish  you  would  say  to — tell 
her — "  He  could  not  bring  himself  to  mention 
the  name — "that  I  am  sorry.  That  does  not 
express  it,  but  if  anything  happens  to  me " 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  sword  play?" 
asked  the  Colonel  who  had  been  an  accomplished 
fencer  at  West  Point. 

"I  belong  to  the  New  York  Fencing  Club  but 
I  haven't  had  a  foil  in  my  hand  in  years.  I  don't 
care  a  rap  if  he  kills  me  after " 

There  was  no  time  for  anything  further.  The 
engagement  was  brief.  Neyland  attacked  in- 
stantly the  word  was  given,  awkwardly,  unskill- 
fully,  impetuously.  The  Duke  contented  himself 
with  parrying  in  order  to  feel  out  his  adversary 
and  perhaps  to  tire  him.  He  soon  discovered  that 
he  was  confronted  by  a  mere  tyro  at  fencing  and 
with  the  knowledge  that  he  was  a  past  master  of 
the  sword  he  realized  that  he  could  end  it  how  and 
whenever  he  wished.  He  was  careless  enough  to 
laugh  at  one  particularly  futile  lunge  and  that 
laugh  was  his  undoing.  The  enraged  American 
hurled  himself  upon  him,  beat  down  his  guard  by 
main  strength  in  a  way  utterty  unsanctioned  by  the 
schools,  and  drove  his  sword  almost  to  the  hilt 
through  the  Duke's  shoulder.  Neyland  stood 
staring  at  him  in  horrified  surprise  as  the  Italian 
fell,  blood  gushing  over  his  white  shirt. 


A  Passage  at  Arms  21 

It  was  John  Warburton  who  broke  in  again. 
He  had  been  idly  wandering  through  the  garden 
smoking  after  he  left  the  terrace,  his  mind  too  full 
of  fascinating  possibilities  to  go  to  bed,  when  he 
had  heard  the  clash  of  steel  and  turning  had  seen 
the  flashes  of  light  on  the  swift  moving  swords 
through  the  trees  and  shrubbery.  Naturally  he 
went  toward  the  sound.  He  arrived  just  in  time 
to  see  the  Duke  fall  and  to  hear  Neyland  say  to  the 
Colonel. 

"This  is  a  pretty  night's  work.  I  have  insulted 
a  woman  and  half  killed  a  man  in  the  space  of 
half  an  hour." 

"I  did  not  mean  to  observe.  I  only  came  here 
by  chance  and  I  certainly  did  not  mean  to  over- 
hear,"  broke  in  Warburton.  "I  suspected  the 
first  part  of  your  confession,  Neyland,  and  I  see  the 
evidence  of  the  latter  part.  You  will,  I  am  sure, 
see  that  I  can  no  longer  count  you  as  one  of  my 
guests  on  the  Christianna." 

"I've  made  a  mess  of  it  all  round,"  said  Ney- 
land harshly.  "I  don't  blame  you,  Warburton. 
I'd  like  a  chance  to  apologize,  but  this  disagree- 
ment about  the — er — nebular  hypothesis  with  the 
Duke  yonder  and  his  condition " 

"It  is  most  serious,  gentlemen, "  said  the  doctor. 
"I  advise  Monsieur  to  leave  Sorrento  at  once." 

"It  was  a  fair  fight,  wasn't  it?"  snapped  out 
Neyland. 

"I  can  testify  to  that,"  answered  Captain 
Zacchei  magnanimously. 


22  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"By  gad,  sirs,  so  can  I,"  answered  the  Colonel. 

"But  under  the  circumstances  it  would  be  well 
if  Signer  Neyland  leaves  with  the  yacht,  which  I 
understand  steams  in  the  morning,"  continued 
Zacchei,  who  had  not  heard  Warburton's  state- 
ment, being  busied  with  the  Duke,  who  was  sorely 
hurt  and  very  faint  from  loss  of  blood. 

"I  will  go  tonight,"  said  Neyland.  "War- 
burton,  will  you  make  what  excuses  you  can  for  me 
to  the  rest  of  your  party  and  have  my  man  take 
my  things  off  at  Genoa  and  go  to  the  Grand  Hotel 
and  wait  me  there?" 

"I  will." 

"And  Warburton,  I  seem  to  have  abused  your 
hospitality  outrageously.  I  can't  explain  it  but 
I  hope  you  won't  be  too  hard  on  me  in  any  com- 
ments you  may  desire  to  make. " 

"I  shall  make  no  comments  at  all,"  said  War- 
burton  coldly.  "I  shall  only  say  that  you  were 
called  away  imperatively  and  left  your  apologies 
with  me." 

"I  suppose  this  thing  can  be  hushed  up." 

'  'We  are  all  men  of  honour  here,  Signor  Neyland," 
said  Captain  Zacchei,  "and  the  concierge " 

"I  am  a  man  of  honour  too,  Signori,"  said  the 
concierge,  gallantly  pocketing  a  bundle  of  notes 
which  Warburton  thrust  into  his  hand,  and  turn- 
ing away  to  summon  further  assistance  for  the 
Duke. 

"This  is  a  bad  business,"  said  the  Colonel, 
following  him  with  Neyland. 


A  Passage  at  Arms  23 

"Yes,  I  have  lost  out  where  I  most  cared. 
Well,  I  brought  it  on  myself,"  said  Neyland 
bitterly. 

Chrissey  de  Selden  did  not  come  down  to 
breakfast  the  next  morning;  in  fact  she  did  not 
appear  at  all  until  time  to  embark  on  the  yacht. 
She  received  John  Warburton's  explanation  about 
the  failure  of  the  Duke  and  Neyland  to  present 
themselves  at  the  landing  stage  with  apathy. 
She  had  heard  nothing,  it  appeared.  Just  as 
they  were  embarking  on  the  launch  a  note  was 
put  into  her  hand. 

"Ma  donna,"  it  ran,  "I  did  my  best  to  avenge 
the  insult  but  fortune  was  against  me  for  I  have 
been  wounded  by  that  blunderer's  sword. " 

The  girl  stared  at  the  note,  the  handwriting 
being  that  of  a  stranger  since  the  Duke  had  been 
forced  to  employ  an  amanuensis.  She  stepped  to 
the  deserted  end  of  the  wharf  for  privacy,  taking 
Warburton  with  her.  She  thrust  the  note  before 
him. 

"I  hadn't  meant  to  tell  you,"  said  Warburton, 
glancing  at  it  and  seeing  no  way  out  of  it,  "but 
Neyland  and  the  Duke  had  an  encounter  last  night 
with  swords. " 

"About  me?"  asked  the  girl. 

"About  the  nebular  hypothesis,  they  said." 

"And  was  he— did  he ?" 

"Although  the  Duke  is  an  accomplished  swords- 
man, in  some  strange  way  Neyland  ran  him  through 
the  shoulder.  His  condition  is  serious. " 


24  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"And  Mr.  Neyland?" 

"Escaped  without  a  scratch." 

"I  wish  the  Duke  had  killed  him,"  said  the  girl 
suddenly. 

"Why?"  asked  Warburton.  "But  you  must 
not  answer  of  course,"  he  went  on  hurriedly,  "I 
have  no  right  to  ask." 

"And  that  is  why  neither  of  them  sails  with  us?  " 

"Yes." 

Chrissey  de  Selden  carried  a  great  bunch  of  red 
roses  that  Warburton  had  given  her  that  morning. 

"You  won't  mind, "  she  asked  detaching  one  and 
handing  it  to  the  messenger  as  they  came  back 
to  the  launch.  "Give  this  to  your  master,"  she 
continued,  "and  tell  him  I  am  very  sorry  that  he  is 
hurt.  Now  take  me  to  the  yacht  quickly,"  she 
said  to  Warburton.  "I  don't  believe  I  can  stand 
any  more. " 

She  swayed  almost  as  if  she  would  fall.  War- 
burton  put  his  arm  around  her  as  he  had  often 
done  when  she  was  a  child,  and  half  lifted  her  into 
the  launch  whither  the  others  had  preceded  her. 
Colonel  Tayloe,  who  alone  had  the  clue  to  every- 
thing that  had  happened,  discreetly  engaged  his 
daughter  and  Mrs.  de  Selden  in  conversation. 

"I'm  going  to  my  cabin,"  said  the  girl  as  War- 
burton  helped  her  through  the  gangway. 

"Before  you  go,"  said  the  man — and  there  was 
a  meaning  in  his  words  and  a  look  which  she  had 
never  seen  before  and  which  startled  her — "I  want 
to  tell  you  now  that  I  am,  as  indeed  I  always  have 


A  Passage  at  Arms  25 

been,  absolutely  devoted  to  you  and  your  service — 
Christianna. " 

There  was  a  long  pause  between  the  assurance 
and  the  name  which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  use 
in  earlier  days,  but  which  had  fallen  rarely  from  his 
lips  since  she  had  grown  up.  The  girl  stared  at 
him  in  surprise. 

"I  know,"  she  said  at  last. 

There  was  something  so  strong  and  so  powerful 
about  John  Warburton  that  no  woman  could  be 
indifferent  to  such  an  assurance,  and  Chrissey 
de  Selden  was  in  the  exact  mood  to  receive  it 
gratefully. 


CHAPTER  III 

ONE   WAY  OUT 

JOHN  WARBURTON  and  Chrissey  ae  Selden  stood 
on  the  windward  end  of  the  lower  flying  bridge 
of  the  Acguitania.  The  great  ship  was  moving 
slowly  up  the  channel  toward  its  pier.  They  were 
staring  ahead  in  the  pleasant  fall  weather  at  the 
wonderful  sky  line  of  New  York,  a  sky  line  no  one 
could  look  at  without  emotion  and  which  never 
failed  to  impress  the  American  with  a  sense  of  the 
material  wealth  and  splendour  and  greatness  of 
the  land  he  called  his  own. 

It  was  a  case  of  similia  similibus  for  Warburton 
was  the  very  incarnation  of  material  power.  His 
was  the  greatest  name,  in  finance  at  least,  in 
America,  and  he  looked  it.  But  other  things 
appealed  to  him,  beauty  most  of  all.  He  was  a 
collector  of  the  rich,  the  rare,  the  exquisite,  a 
discriminating  collector,  not  one  who  bought  up 
what  other  men  had  assembled  but  who  exercised 
his  own  taste  and  developed  it.  Indeed,  he  re- 
joiced in  the  possession  of  the  material  because 
with  it  he  could  achieve  the  beautiful, — that  is, 
with  certain  limitations. 

26 


One  Way  Out  27 

Could  he  ever  achieve  Chrissey  de  Selden,  for 
instance,  who  stood  by  his  side  gazing  ahead  at  the 
great  Gothic  tower  of  the  Woolworth  building, 
contrasting  it  with  the  pretentious  and  bizarre 
effect  of  the  Singer  spire,  and  turning  from  both 
to  the  pyramidal  top  of  the  Banker's  Trust  build- 
ing with  a  thin  column  of  smoke  rising  in  the  still 
air,  like  an  Aztec  Teocalli  with  the  burnt  sacrifice 
smouldering  on  its  top. 

Chrissey  de  Selden  was  certainly  fair  to  look 
upon.  Entrancing,  impressive,  as  was  the  sky 
line  to  John  Warburton — and  it  had  never  lost  the 
freshness  of  its  appeal  although  he  had  seen  it 
many  times  from  incoming  ships — he  turned  from 
it  to  stare  at  her.  She  was  a  small  woman,  out  of 
fashion  by  that,  perhaps,  but  perfectly  made  and 
of  such  exquisite  proportion  that  the  fraction  of  an 
inch  added  to  her  height  would  have  spoiled  her, 
as  the  breadth  of  a  line  on  the  nose  of  Egypt  might 
have  thrown  Cleopatra  into  oblivion.  She  was 
pale  of  face,  her  pallor  intensified  by  the  shadows 
of  her  soft  brown  hair,  which,  being  beautifully 
browed  like  (Enone,  she  wore  brushed-  straight 
back  from  a  point  on  her  forehead  and  drawn  down 
around  her  oval  face,  which  it  framed  in  a  dusky 
aureole.  And  her  eyes  were  brown,  sometimes  shot 
with  lambent  fires,  again  veiled  in  misty  softness, 
or  sparkling  blackly  with  merriment,  according  to 
her  mood.  The  clear  pallor  of  her  cheek  was  some- 
times touched  with  colour  and  it  always  radiated 
health  and  sweetness  and  light.  Her  nose  was 


28  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

perfectly  modelled,  albeit  just  a  trifle  too  large  for 
absolute  perfection,  as  if  to  bring  her  within  the 
range  of  common  human  thought  and  life  by  leav- 
ing something  to  be  desired.  John  Warburton 
was  critical.  He  had  examined  covertly,  as 
this  morning,  and  analysed  inwardly  as  he  always 
did,  that  face  many  a  time.  Perhaps  that  red- 
lipped  mouth  so  gracefully  curved  was  a  trifle 
too  large  also,  but  it  was  so  kissable. 

They  stood  on  the  high  bridge  staring  at  the  sky 
line,  the  people  on  the  decks  below  envying  them 
their  vantage  point,  which  Warburton's  influence 
had  procured.  And  the  man  wanted  to  take  the 
woman  in  his  arms  before  them  all.  He  craved  to 
lift  her  up  to  his  own  height  and  press  her  to  his 
breast  so  that  her  heart  should  beat  against  his. 
He  had  begun  to  love  her  when  her  father  had  given 
her,  a  slip  of  a  girl,  to  him,  and  had  charged  him  on 
his  honour  and  by  his  manhood  to  deal  righteously 
with  her  and  the  not  inconsiderable  fortune  com- 
mitted to  his  trust  with  the  mother  and  daughter. 
And  Warburton  had  been  faithful  to  that  trust. 
None  could  gainsay  that.  In  his  successful  oper- 
ations the  de  Seldens  had  shared.  Even  in  Amer- 
ica, where  Warburton's  fortune  was  colossal,  they 
were  regarded  as  extremely  wealthy. 

Chrissey  de  Selden — Christianna  he  had  always 
called  her  in  formal,  old-fashioned  courtesy — had 
never  lacked  anything.  If  she  had  been  as  poor 
as  Warburton  had  once  been  he  would  never 
have  allowed  her  to  ask  a  second  time  for  any- 


One  Way  Out  29 

thing,  and  he  would  have  anticipated  her  slightest 
wish. 

Mrs.  de  Selden  had  lived  in  retirement  after  her 
husband's  death,  chiefly  engaged  in  superintend- 
ing her  daughter's  education.  Warburton  had 
only  seen  them  occasionally  until  the  daughter 
had  been  launched  in  society  under  such  brilliant 
auspices  and  such  favourable  conditions  as  fall  to 
the  lot  of  few  debutantes.  For  her  sake  Warbur- 
ton had  built  himself  a  palace  on  Fifth  Avenue  and 
at  his  earnest  request  Miss  de  Selden  and  her 
mother  had  come  there  to  live  and  preside  over  his 
magnificent  hospitality. 

From  the  day  he  had  seen  her  as  a  woman  War- 
burton  had  loved  her.  Twice  her  age,  he  had 
made  no  effort  to  apprise  her  of  his  passion.  He 
had  been  convinced  that  he  was  not  meant  for  her, 
and  there  were  other  reasons  beside  the  disparity 
in  years  which  moved  him  to  this  conclusion.  So, 
with  that  iron  self-repression  which  made  him 
terribly  feared  in  the  modern  warfare  where  bullets 
are  dollars  and  the  flash  of  wit  takes  the  place  of 
steel,  with  a  pain  in  his  heart  he  could  not  subdue 
he  had  stood  aside  and  watched  other  men  advance 
where  he  hesitated. 

He  had  played  many  a  waiting  game  in  his  life, 
conscious  that  things  do  come  to  him  who  waits, 
provided  he  can  control  the  course.  The  waiting 
game  had  been  hopeless  at  first  but  finally  as  suitor 
after  suitor  made  his  attack,  failed  and  gave  over 
the  chase,  or  stood  helplessly  afar  off,  all  War- 


30  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

burton's  spirits  rose  and  he  began  to  dream. 
Dreams  of  the  strong  sometimes  are  translated  into 
action  and  become  realities.  Warburton  had  been 
about  ready  to  speak  when  Neyland  crossed  his 
path,  or  rather  hers. 

Richard  Neyland  was  rich,  well  born,  distin- 
guished, young.  He  had  taken  his  fling.  He  had 
barely  got  through  Harvard  and  he  had  gone 
abroad  thereafter.  The  heat  in  his  blood  had  flung 
him  into  all  sorts  of  adventures.  He  had  fought 
as  a  volunteer  under  Savoff  in  Bulgaria,  had  hunted 
big  game  in  equatorial  Africa,  followed  a  wandering 
northman  into  the  Artie  seas,  and  now  he  was  back 
in  New  York  with  all  the  glamour  of  these  pursuits 
about  him. 

He  had  inherited  a  seat  on  the  stock  exchange 
but  with  a  fortune  sufficient  to  his  needs  had  made 
little  use  of  it.  He  had  never  committed  the  crime 
of  aiming  low  and  so  soon  as  he  had  met  Chrissey 
de  Selden  he  had  aimed  for  her.  After  all  that 
excitement  of  fighting  and  exploring  humdrum  life 
had  not  suited  him.  There  were  wild  tales  of  his  ex- 
cesses current  in  the  society  to  which  he  belonged, 
and  not  concealed  from  the  public  generally,  which 
loved  such  gossip  and  rejoiced  in  base  innuendo. 
Some  had  even  delved  into  his  ancestry  and  dis- 
covered— well,  what  they  discovered  was  of  no 
moment  to  Chrissey  de  Selden. 

Warburton,  who  knew  Neyland's  whole  history 
and  the  tainted  blood  which  had  been  handed  down 
to  him,  did  not  at  first  feel  it  necessary  to  dis- 


One  Way  Out  31 

close  it  to  his  young  ward.  Yet  his  position  was  a 
difficult  one.  He  knew  that  he  must  speak  sooner 
or  later.  Watching  the  course  of  events  acutely, 
he  sometimes  doubted  if  it  were  not  already  too 
late.  For  the  first  and  only  time  in  his  life  had  he 
been  undecided. 

At  Chrissey  de  Selden's  direct  request  he  had 
invited  Neyland  to  be  one  of  that  party  on  the 
great  and  gorgeous  yacht  he  had  purchased  and 
named  for  her.  The  episode  at  the  Hotel  Victoria 
at  Sorrento  had  shown  him  that  he  had  been  right 
in  his  estimate  of  Neyland  and  it  had  persuaded 
him  also  that  there  was  still  time  for  him  to  speak 
if  he  wished.  With  rare  and  exquisite  tact  he  had 
never  mentioned  Neyland  or  the  Duca  di  Attavanti 
in  the  months  of  wandering  around  the  Mediter- 
ranean after  leaving  Naples,  and  for  that  very 
reason  Chrissey  de  Selden,  who  had  wanted 
above  all  things  to  talk  about  them,  was  dis- 
appointed. 

Once  or  twice  she  had  started  to  confide  in 
Warburton — she  had  of  course  told  her  mother  and 
Rose  Tayloe  all  about  it — but  Warburton  would 
not  discuss  it.  He  had  never  passed  any  censure 
on  Neyland  either.  It  was  not  his  habit  to  talk 
about  a  man  behind  his  back,  nor,  strange  as  it 
may  seem  in  such  a  fighter  on  the  stock  exchange, 
to  hit  a  man  when  he  was  down.  Indeed  many  a 
man  could  tell  tales  of  helping  hands  extended  him 
through  Warburton's  influence.  To  be  sure  this 
was  generally  after  Warburton  had  got  what  he 


32  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

wanted  out  of  the  man  who  had  presumed  to 
question  his  rule.  And  this,  albeit  he  did  not  so 
intend  it,  had  turned  to  Warburton's  advantage. 

That  virtual  offer  of  himself  which  he  had  made 
to  Chrissey  de  Selden  that  morning  on  the  yacht 
had  remained  ever  present  with  the  girl.  She  had 
turned  it  over  and  over  in  her  mind.  There  was 
something  fascinating  in  the  idea  that  this  great 
man  who,  it  was  sometimes  urged,  held  the  desti- 
nies of  America  in  his  hand,  was  hers  for  the  taking. 
She  had  studied  Warburton  physically  of  late  but 
there  was  not  a  single  thing  about  him  that  could 
be  called  handsome  or  appealing  except  his  strength 
and  power.  That  was  written  in  every  line  of  his 
face  and  in  every  part  of  his  body.  He  was  a  big 
man  mentally  and  physically,  and  he  looked  it. 
Neyland  was  an  Adonis  beside  him,  and  even  the 
little  Duke,  point-device  in  everything,  far  sur- 
passed him  in  outward  and  visible  attractive- 
ness. 

Chrissey  de  Selden  had  not  passed  two  years  in 
the  whirl  of  society  without  learning  to  estimate 
mankind  and  she  made  these  two  comparisons, 
strange  to  say,  not  to  Warburton's  disadvantage. 
He  was  so  cold,  so  reserved,  so  self-contained,  so 
masterful  and  fixed,  and  withal  so  much  older  than 
she  that  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  think  of  him 
as  a  lover,  much  less  a  husband.  And  yet  to  her 
mind  would  recur  that  declaration.  It  was  sup- 
plemented by  little  attentions  which,  lacking  a 
key  or  clue  before,  she  had  accepted  as  a  matter  of 


One  Way  Out  33 

course,  only  now  realizing  in  'them  an  exquisite 
thoughtfulness  and  devotion.  . 

Tired  at  last  of  aimless  travel  and  longing  for 
home,  they  had  turned  the  yacht  over  to  her  sailing 
master  to  make  the  best  of  her  way  to  New  York, 
and  had  taken  passage  on  the  Acquitania.  For- 
tune, who  shuffles  the  cards  and  brings  different 
suits  and  values  into  strange  juxtaposition  as  she 
plays  her  never-ending  game  of  solitaire  with 
humanity,  had  so  arranged  matters  that  Neyland, 
who  had  wandered  through  Europe  striving  to  for- 
get and  to  show  himself  worthy  of  the  affection 
she  had  once  had  for  him  by  keeping  sober  again, 
had  taken  passage  homeward  on  the  same  ship; 
and  the  company  of  the  elect  had  been  further 
increased  by  the  Duca  di  Attavanti,  who  had  se- 
cured leave  of  absence  to  go  to  the  United  States 
and  prosecute  his  campaign  for  the  heart  of  the  fair 
little  American  during  his  convalescence. 

To  do  him  justice  the  Duke  was  not  a  fortune 
hunter.  His  possessions,  while  they  did  not  match 
with  the  great  fortunes  of  America,  were  ample  to 
enable  him  to  support  a  wife  in  accordance  with 
the  demands  of  that  station,  high  and  honour- 
able, into  which  it  had  pleased  God  to  call  him. 
Miss  de  Selden's  money  was  the  last  thing  he 
thought  of. 

The  situation  was  unpleasant.  There  was  no 
reason  why  Neyland  and  the  Tayloes — Colonel 
Tayloe  had  known  Neyland's  father  and  loved  him 
— should  not  be  friends,  and  there  was  no  reason 


34  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

why  the  Duke  should  not  pay  his  court  openly. 
Indeed  he  did  it.  But  there  was  bad  blood  be- 
tween the  American  and  the  Italian,  and  Chrissey 
de  Selden,  unforgetful,  had  passed  Neyland  by  as 
an  idle  wind  which  she  respected  not.  Warburton 
had  been  coolly  polite  to  him  but  Neyland  had 
taken  to  haunting  the  smoking-room,  avoiding 
them  all.  He  smoked  much,  he  played  high,  but 
as  yet  he  drank  nothing. 

That  any  one  should  refuse  him  never  entered 
the  head  of  Attavanti.  He  fell  into  the  view  that 
Miss  de  Selden  was  under  obligation  to  him,  that 
he  had  constituted  himself  her  champion  at  her 
request,  or  at  least  with  her  sanction;  that  red  rose 
had  seemed  to  him  to  typify  her  acceptance  of  the 
red  blood  he  had  shed  on  her  behalf.  It  was 
becoming  increasingly  difficult  for  Chrissey  de 
Selden  to  keep  the  Duke  at  arm's  length  and  it 
was  becoming  more  and  more  difficult  for  her  to 
maintain  that  pitch  of  passionate  indignation  and 
resentment  against  Neyland.  Some  hint  of  the 
affair  had  leaked  out  in  some  way  in  ship  gossip. 
She  was  an  object  of  deep  interest  to  the  less 
favoured  passengers  not  honoured  with  her 
acquaintance. 

One  could  be  as  exclusive  on  the  Acguitania  if 
one  had  money  and  desired  it  as  in  one's  own  home, 
and  although  she  was  the  last  person  to  realize 
that  interest,  when  she  did  it  burst  upon  her  that 
the  papers  would  get  hold  of  it,  that  everybody 
would  know  that  she  had  been  fought  about  in 


One  Way  Out  35 

Italy,  and  that  endless  gossip  and  scandal  would 
make  her  a  by-word  in  that  section  of  society  which 
loves  to  throw  mud  at  those  who  sit  in  the  seats  of 
the  mighty,  and  which  would  fain  follow  Biblical 
precedent  by  pulling  them  down  and  casting  them 
out. 

A  woman  of  splendid  pride  was  Chrissey  de 
Selden  and  she  raged  against  that  possibility, 
wondering  how  she  could  avoid  it,  and  as  she  was 
an  unusually  clear-sighted  woman,  she  presently 
realized  that  there  was  a  way  and  that  way  was 
Warburton. 

Perhaps  that  thought  made  her  a  little  kinder 
than  she  would  ordinarily  have  been  toward  the 
man  she  so  respected  and  regarded,  although  not 
at  all  in  the  way  he  wished.  Perhaps  to  show  the 
Duke  that  a  greater  than  he  was  hers  for  the  taking, 
perhaps  to  convince  herself,  and  incidentally 
Neyland,  how  thoroughly  the  latter  had  passed 
out  of  her  life,  she  had  been  complaisant,  receptive. 
Therefore,  she  was  not  at  all  surprised  when  John 
Warburton  laid  his  hand  on  hers  lying  on  the  rail 
and  said  to  her  in  his  formal  and  somewhat  pre- 
cise way : 

"Christianna" — why  could  he  never  call  her 
Chrissey  or  Chris? — "it  is  a  presumption  on  my 
part  which  you  cannot  realize  more  clearly  than 
I.  By  age  and  temperament  and  everything  but 
the  material  things  in  life,  which  after  all  count  for 
little" — it  is  those  who  have  much  who  think 
little  of  what  they  have! — "surely  I  am  utterly 


36  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

unsuited  to  and  unfit  for  you  but  I  love  you  and 
I  offer  myself  to  you.  If  you  will  be  my  wife  I 
will  try  to  make  you  the  happiest  of  women." 

And  before  she  answered  she  noted  with  a  little 
pained  amusement  the  unselfish  conclusion  of  his 
proposal.  Why  did  he  not  say,  for  instance,  that 
her  acceptance  would  make  him  the  happiest  of 
men?  But  that  was  John  Warburton's  way. 


CHAPTER  IV 

BAFFLED  SUITORS 

SAVE  for  that  touch  of  his  big,  strong  hand  upon 
hers,  his  manner  was  exactly  what  it  would  have 
been  if  he  had  been  offering  to  buy  a  Raphael 
or  another  railroad.  Stop,  there  was  this  differ- 
ence. A  Raphael  or  a  railroad  would  have  been 
ordered  in  terms  which  clearly  indicated  his  in- 
tention of  getting  it.  There  was  a  suggestion  of 
dubiety  in  his  humility,  albeit  that  humility  was 
as  restrained  and  as  cold  as  the  rest  of  him,  but  the 
note  was  there. 

Well  for  Warburton  that  it  was,  for  it  was  the 
only  thing  that  really  touched  the  woman's  heart. 
Having  said  his  say  he  waited.  He  was  afraid. 
Chrissey  de  Selden  leaned  over  the  rail  and 
looked  down  at  the  deck  beneath.  Neyland,  his 
face  flushed,  his  air  moody  and  sullen,  leaned 
against  the  rail  forward,  his  back  turned  to  Amer- 
ica and  New  York  while  he  shot  covert  glances  at 
the  two  from  under  the  peak  of  his  cap.  The 
little  Duke  walked  back  and  forth  across  the  deck 
athwartship  with  Rose  Tayloe.  He  twitched  his 
mustaches  and  smiled  up  at  her  with  an  air  singu- 

37 


38  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

larly  like  that  of  a  proprietor.  He  might  have  had 
Rose  Tayloe  for  the  asking  and  she  was  worth 
asking  for,  too,  but  although  he  gave  her  outward 
and  visible  attention,  his  inward  thoughts  were  for 
the  woman  above  him.  Her  latest  suitors  were 
before  her.  Which  should  she  take? 

They  were  slowly  swinging  up  the  North  River 
now.  There  were  others  on  shore  who  would  be 
waiting  for  her.  Some  of  them  expectant  of 
answers,  some  of  them  hopeful,  all  of  them  pur- 
suing and  not  faint  about  it  either.  There  was 
the  set  in  which  she  lived  eager  to  welcome  her 
with  open  arms.  There  would  be  the  newspaper 
reporters  from  the  gossipy  society  sheets  to  the 
yellow  journals. 

Here  by  her  side  was  John  Warburton — waiting. 
He  was  a  refuge,  a  haven.  She  forgot  for  the 
moment  what  matrimony  meant.  She  did  not 
realize  the  fierce  passions  that  filled  the  man  under 
that  steady  impassive  front.  It  did  not  occur  to 
her  that  a  great  fighter  is  apt  to  make  a  great 
lover. 

She  would  stop  the  annoying  attentions  of  the 
Duke.  She  would  show  Richard  Neyland  that  she 
had  meant  all  that  had  been  expressed  in  that 
furious  thrust  that  had  laid  him  low.  She  would 
stop  silly  gossip  with  the  announcement  of  her 
engagement.  There  would  be  no  great  romance 
in  marrying  John  Warburton.  People  would  lose 
interest  in  her  so  soon  as  her  engagement  was 
known,  she  thought  mistakenly. 


Baffled  Suitors  39 

She  liked  him  very  much.  He  had  always  been 
kind  to  her.  She  turned  and  studied  his  impassive 
face  a  little. 

"Yes, "  she  said  in  a  manner  as  quiet  as  his  own, 
"I  will  marry  you." 

She  was  still  looking  at  him,  and  although  he 
strove  to  retain  that  immobility  for  which  he  was 
famous  she  was  conscious  of  a  swift  momentary 
change  of  his  expression,  the  tremendous  rise  of  his 
broad  chest,  as  it  were  with  a  gasp,  and  the  steady 
flood  of  colour  that  came  into  his  bronzed  cheek. 
How  she  had  touched  him!  This  might  have 
warned  her  that  marriage  even  with  John  War- 
burton  was  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  mere  business 
enterprise  but  that  it  involved  other  things  quite 
different. 

But  all  this  was  momentary.  It  was  the  same 
John  Warburton  she  had  always  known  who  stood 
there.  Characteristically  he  removed  his  hand 
from  hers  before  he  spoke. 

"Thank  you,  you  shall  not  regret  this  decision. " 

John  Warburton  was  so  accustomed  to  the 
dominance  of  his  own  will  that  it  never  occurred 
to  him  that  it  was  not  always  man  who  disposes 
as  well  as  proposes.  Being  a  man  of  direct  habit 
and  thought,  he  went  straight  to  the  next  question. 

"When  shall  we  be  married?" 

"This  is  the  middle  of  September, "  answered  the 
girl.  "It  will  take  me  six  weeks  or  so  to  get 
ready " 

"Shall  we  say  the  last  of  October?" 


4O  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"That  will  suit  me  very  well.  Now  this  being 
all  settled,"  she  continued,  smiling  at  him  a  little 
pitifully — was  it  because  she  had  taken  the  step 
and  there  would  be  no  more  gay  passages  at  arms 
with  men,  or  because  of  the  little  Duke's  certain 
resentment  or  because  of  Richard  Neyland,  or 
because  the  whole  thing  was  so  unromantic  and 
matter-of-fact  that  she  was  conscious  of  a  deep 
feeling  of  disappointment? — ''I  must  go  below. 
Good-bye.  I'll  see  you  on  the  dock,  of  course." 

Neyland  saw  her  leave  the  bridge.  He  so  timed 
his  own  progress  toward  the  cabin  as  to  meet  her 
in  one  of  the  narrow  gangways.  He  deliberately 
blocked  her  way. 

"Miss  de  Selden,"  he  began  formally  and  she 
noted  with  a  pang  of  pity  how  thoroughly  haggard 
and  worn  and  miserable  he  looked  and  how  broken. 
Her  eyes  misted  although  she  would  fain  have  had 
them  blaze. 

"Let  me  pass,"  she  said  with  a  fierceness  that 
belied  her  gaze. 

"For  God's  sake,"  he  said,  and  by  that  plea 
he  meant  for  his  sake  and  hers  although  she  did 
not  know  it,  "give  me  a  moment. " 

"I'm  afraid,"  she  answered  cuttingly,  although 
there  was  no  fear  in  her  heart,  "to  be  alone  with 
you  after  the  last  time  at  Sorrento. " 

"I  was  mad  then,"  said  the  man  eagerly.  "I 
want  to  ask  your  for " 

"If  you  have  anything  to  ask,"  the  girl  went  on 
mercilessly,  "I  shall  have  to  refer  you  to  Mr. 


Baffled  Suitors  41 

Warburton,  to  whom  I  am  to  be  married  in 
October." 

" It  isn't  true!     It  can't  be!" 

"Will  you  let  me  pass  now,  Mr.  Neyland?" 
she  continued,  and  as  he  shrank  back  she  swept  by 
him  her  head  in  air,  her  heart  beating,  her  cheeks 
flushed. 

It  was  a  sweet  revenge  almost  worth  her  pledge 
to  John  Warburton. 

Hurrying  along  the  corridor  came  the  Duke  who 
had  torn  himself  away  from  Rose  Tayloe  and  had 
sought  speech  with  Chrissey  de  Selden  so  soon  as 
he,  too,  saw  her  leave  the  bridge.  He  saw  her 
enter  her  cabin  and  then  he  stopped  in  front 
of  Neyland.  The  latter  looked  down  at  him  and 
laughed  mirthlessly,  mockingly. 

"You  laugh,  Signore,"  said  the  Duke  fiercely, 
"there  is  mockery,  you  were  speaking  to  the 
Signorina  de  Selden.  I  forbid  it." 

"You  forbid  it!"  sneered  Neyland. 

"Yes,  I.  By  blundering  clumsiness  you  ran  me 
through  once,  but  the  next  time " 

"  This  is  America.  There  won't  be  any  next  time. 
And  let  me  tell  you,  you  would  better  go  back  to 
Italy  and  stop  your  futile  pursuit  of  that  young 
lady." 

"And  why?" 

"I've  just  been  congratulating  her  on  her 
approaching  marriage  to  John  Warburton." 

"You  lie,"  said  the  little  Italian  springing  for- 
ward, but  Neyland  caught  his  arm  and  shoved  him 


42  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

along  the  gangway  to  one  of  the  broad  pleasure 
rooms.  They  saw  John  Warburton  descending 
from  the  bridge  above. 

"You  fool,"  said  Neyland  letting  the  Italian 
loose,  "there's  Warburton,  ask  him." 

Most  of  the  passengers  were  on  deck  and  the 
three  men  had  the  apartment  to  themselves. 
Neyland  started  to  go  out,  thought  better  of  it, 
and  stopped. 

"I  congratulate  you,"  he  said  to  Warburton  as 
the  Italian  adjusted  his  ruffled  apparel. 

"On  what?" 

"On  your  engagement  to  Miss  de  Selden.  I 
suppose  you  filled  her  up  with  lies  about  me, 
damn  you." 

"  I  have  not  so  much  as  mentioned  your  name  to 
her, "  was  the  contemptuous  reply.  "  I  have  even 
refused  to  listen  when  she  has  sought  to  talk  about 
you." 

"Is  it  so  indeed?"  sneered  Neyland.  "Well, 
you  think  you  have  done  with  me  but  you  haven't. 
I've  been  a  fool  but  you'll  know  before  I  get 
through  that  there's  another  side  to  my  character." 

"I  wish  you  good  luck  in  your  endeavours. 
You'll  need  all  that  you  can  get. " 

Warburton  smiled  grimly  at  him.  Neyland 
ground  his  heel  into  the  deck  and  turned  away. 
It  was  the  Duke  who  stepped  into  the  breech. 
Waiting  until  the  other  had  departed,  he  began : 

"I  consider  the  Signorina  de  Selden  belongs  to 
me.  I  have  fought  for  her.  I  am  of  the  oldest 


Baffled  Suitors  43 

blood  in  Italy,  an  officer  of  the  First  Bersaglieri. 
I  have  riches,  youth.  I  appeal  to  you  as  her 
guardian  for  her  hand.  I  would  make  her  the 
Duchessa  di  Attavanti. " 

"But  she  does  not  love  you." 

"I  think  yes." 

"She  has  just  promised  to  marry  me." 

"It  is  monstrous.  I  forbid  it.  I  intend  to 
marry  her.  You  are  her  guardian." 

"She  is  of  age,  and  settles  these  matters  her- 
self." 

"She  has  encouraged  me.  She  has  permitted 
me  to  hope,  to " 

Warburton's  hand  fell  heavily  on  the  Duke's 
shoulder. 

"You  have  said  that  once  to  me.  I  wouldn't 
say  it  again  to  anybody  else." 

"Why?" 

"It's  not  true." 

"You  give  me  the  lie!     Me,  a  soldier  of  Italy?" 

"  I  give  you  a  chance  to  get  away  with  your  life. " 

"Oh,  you  would  fight  me?" 

"We  don't  fight  duels  in  America,  and  I  haven't 
the  slightest  intention  of  doing  anything  so  foolish 
as  that. " 

"  I  will  make  you  fight, "  said  the  Duke  wrench- 
ing himself  away  from  Warburton  and  suddenly 
raising  his  hand  threateningly. 

"  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  do  that, "  said  the  big 
American  quietly. 

"Why  not?" 


44  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I'll  give  you  the  worst  thrashing  you  ever  had 
in  your  life." 

"  I  will  brand  you  as  a  coward. " 

"There  are  too  many  people  in  America  who 
know  the  truth  to  make  that  threat  of  any  con- 
sequence to  me  whatever." 

The  Duke  was  helpless  but  he  began : 

"I  love  her  so." 

He  was  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  lived,  but  there 
could  not  have  been  a  greater  contrast  between 
two  men  than  between  these  two.  He  leaned  his 
head  against  a  bookcase,  his  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"I'm  sorry  for  you,"  said  Warburton  more 
kindly.  "I  believe  you  are  a  brave  and  gallant 
gentleman.  Miss  de  Selden  admires  and  respects 
you,  I  know,  but  she  is  going  to  marry  me  and 
that  is  all  there  is  to  it." 

"But  does  she  love  you?" 

"I  think  we  would  better  stop  this  conversa- 
tion," said  Warburton  quietly,  "I  have  treated 
you  better  than  you  deserve,  but  I  feel  sorry  for 
you."  It  was  rare  indeed  that  Warburton  ex- 
pressed pity  for  any  one  in  this  way.  "I  do  not 
know  what  your  plans  are,"  he  continued,  "but 
I  shall  be  glad  to  do  anything  I  can  to  make  your 
stay  in  America  a  pleasant  one,  and  if  you  can 
forget  this  little  episode  I  should  be  glad  to  wel- 
come you  at  my  house,  which  is  Miss  de  Selden's 
house  now  and  which  will  be  her  house  after  our 
marriage." 

"I  cannot  look  upon  her  and  think  of  her  as 


Baffled  Suitors  45 

belonging  to  another, "  said  the  little  Duke  turn- 
ing away  with  his  head  high. 

Yet  all  the  honours  of  the  interview  did  not 
belong  to  Warburton.  One  question  the  Duke 
had  asked  stuck  in  his  mind.  Did  she  love  him? 
What  a  fool  he  had  been.  He  had  never  asked  her 
and  she  had  not  said.  He  turned  toward  the 
cabin  de  luxe  she  occupied  intent  to  settle  that 
question.  Before  her  door  he  paused  with  up- 
lifted hand,  but  he  did  not  knock  upon  it.  There 
are  some  questions  better  not  asked,  perhaps. 
He  might  not  get  the  answer  that  he  should. 

"Well,"  he  said  to  himself  as  many  another 
man  had  done,  "  I  will  get  an  answer  some  day. " 

He  was  confident  as  to  what  that  answer  would 
be.  Indeed,  there  could  be  no  other. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  WOMAN  ON  THE   STAIR 

IT  was  characteristic  of  the  situation  that 
Chrissey  de  Selden  did  not  tell  her  mother  about 
her  engagement  so  soon  as  she  saw  her.  It  was 
not  until  the  landing  had  been  effected,  the  tire- 
some customs  inspections  gone  through  with,  and 
the  party  had  reached  home,  John  Warburton's 
great  house  on  upper  Fifth  Avenue,  that  Mrs.  de 
Selden  heard  the  news  and  then  it  came  through 
Warburton  himself. 

He  waited  until  evening.  Leaving  them  at  the 
house  he  had  immediately  gone  down  to  his  office 
and  had  returned  just  in  time  to  dress  for  dinner. 
He  was  surprised  when  he  discovered  that  Chrissey 
de  Selden  had  said  nothing.  It  was  not  because 
she  had  no  love  for  her  mother  or  did  not  value  her 
judgment  or  did  not  make  a  confidante  of  her  in  such 
matters  and  in  all  matters  as  a  daughter  should, 
but  because  of  the  nature  of  the  engagement  itself, 
the  reasons  which  had  actuated  her,  the  complica- 
tions preceding.  It  did  not  yet  seem  quite  real 
to  the  girl.  There  ought  to  be  some  other  ratifica- 
tion of  so  important  an  undertaking  than  a  mere 
verbal  one.  She  was  not  quite  sure  of  herself. 

46 


The  Woman  on  the  Stair          47 

She  could  not  determine  whether  she  had  acted 
wisely  or  not  and  as  long  as  it  was  simply  between 
Warburton  and  herself  there  was  no  actuality 
to  it.  He  had  not  kissed  her.  He  had  not  made 
the  least  advance  except  to  touch  her  hand  on  the 
rail.  She  looked  at  her  hand  curiously  as  she 
dressed  for  dinner  and  wondered  whether  she  was 
glad  or  resentful  over  his  coldness. 

She  had  kissed  John  Warburton  many  times  as 
her  guardian  but  she  had  never  let  him  kiss  her, 
nor  had  he  ever  attempted  to  do  so,  in  any  other 
way.  There  was  great  relief  to  her  mind  in  that 
fact.  She  wondered  if  he  would  continue  that 
course.  She  hoped  so,  although  she  did  not  dwell 
very  greatly  upon  that  proposition  or  that  phase 
of  it.  It  was  yet  too  unreal. 

Of  course  the  engagement  would  have  to  be 
made  public.  In  fact,  the  sooner  it  was  told  the 
better,  and  she  had  really  become  engaged  to  him 
that  it  might  be  told  and  that  she  might  have  his 
protection  from  other  suitors  and  from  gossip  and 
scandal  and  unpleasant  talk.  Yet  she  shrank  from 
the  telling  as  one  who  must  take  a  plunge  realizes 
the  chill  of  the  water  and  stands  shivering  and 
reluctant  in  the  warm  air,  fearful  of  the  leap.  Nor 
was  there  any  reason  for  her  reticence.  The  tele- 
phone had  rung  half  an  hour  before  and  when  she 
had  answered  it  Rose  Tayloe  had  overwhelmed 
her  with  surprise  and  congratulations. 

"How  did  you  know  it?"  asked  Chrissey. 

"The  poor  Duke  told  me.    He  is  awfully  cut 


48  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

up  about  it,"  was  the  answer.  "He  has  been  at 
our  house  all  afternoon  and " 

"I  think  you  can  mend  that  cut,"  Chrissey  had 
laughed  back  in  reply.  "No,  it  hasn't  been  an- 
nounced yet  and  no  one  knows  it  except  you  two." 

"One  other  man  knows  it." 

"Who  is  that?" 

"  Richard  Neyland." 

"  Of  course, "  said  Chrissey  indifferently  although 
her  heart  beat  faster  at  that  remembrance. 
"Well,  it  doesn't  make  any  difference.  Every- 
body will  know  it  in  a  short  time." 

"I'll  be  over  tomorrow  morning,"  said  Rose 
before  she  hung  up  the  receiver,  "and  you  can  tell 
me  all  about  it.  I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing. 
It  will  be  the  greatest  surprise  to  everybody,  I'm 
sure. " 

So  that  was  the  way  they  looked  at  it,  thought 
the  woman.  A  great  surprise,  a  subject  for  vast 
congratulations!  And  the  Duke  knew  of  it  as 
well  as  Neyland.  She  was  glad  that  the  little 
Duke  had  heard  of  it  so  soon,  and  she  wondered 
how  they  both  would  take  it.  Rose  would  know. 
She  found  herself  looking  forward  eagerly  to  the 
interview  in  the  morning. 

And  so  she  dawdled  over  her  dressing,  showed 
herself  capricious,  changeable,  undecided.  Her 
maid  found  her  hard  to  please.  Her  mother  had 
no  reason  for  delay  and  Chrissey 's  dilatoriness  gave 
the  elder  woman  a  few  minutes  in  the  drawing-room 
with  Warburton. 


The  Woman  on  the  Stair          49 

"I  suppose,"  the  man  began,  "that  Christianna 
has  told  you?" 

" Told  me  what?" 

"About  her  engagement." 

"She  has  said  nothing.  An  engagement  to  do 
what?" 

"To  get  married." 

"To  whom?" 

"Tome." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  de  Selden  in  great 
surprise. 

"It  surprises  you,  I  know.  It  also  surprises 
me.  Indeed  I  can  scarcely  realize  it  myself." 

"But  when,  how,  where?" 

"On  the  ship  this  morning,  coming  up  the  bay, 
I  asked  her  to  be  my  wife. " 

"But  do  you  love  her?  I  mean  in  that  way. 
I  know,  of  course,  in  other  ways." 

"I  believe,"  answered  Warburton  quietly, 
"that  I  have  loved  her  in  that  way,  as  you 
say,  ever  since  she  made  her  debut." 

"Why  didn't  you  speak?" 

"It  seemed  to  me  to  be  hopeless  and  not  to  be 
kind.  Youth  calls  to  youth.  I  stood  back  and 
waited,  but  no  one  else  seemed  to  attract  her 
sufficiently  and  so  this  morning  I  staked  every- 
thing on  an  appeal." 

Mrs.  de  Selden  looked  at  the  man  with  growing 
admiration.  Whatever  Warburton  did  he  did 
thoroughly.  Half-way  measures  did  not  appeal 
to  him  and  he  never  employed  them.  She  had 


5o  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

known  him  since  he  was  a  baby.  Although  she 
was  not  old  enough  to  be  his  mother  she  was  still 
much  older  than  he,  and  she  had  in  some  sense 
acted  a  mother's  part  toward  him.  No  one  knew 
him  better  than  she  and  no  one  could  appreciate 
the  tremendous  quality  of  his  self-restraint,  in- 
dicated by  that  simple  statement  that  he  had 
waited  and  given  the  rest  of  the  world  a  chance  at 
that  great  prize  he  would  fain  have  won  for  himself. 
And  how  great  was  the  prize  Mrs.  de  Selden  also 
knew. 

Warburton's  simple  statement  that  he  loved 
her  daughter  meant  more  than  a  thousand 
protestations  from  a  weaker  man. 

"I  thought  that  Richard  Neyland — "  she  began 
after  a  little  silence. 

"I  thought  so  too,  but  what  happened  on  the 
terrace  at  the  Victoria  seems  to  have  broken  that 
off." 

"You  know  what  happened?" 

"No,  I  never  asked  Christianna.  I  even 
stopped  her  when  I  thought  she  intended  to 
tell.  Whatever  it  was,  he  was  terribly  punished 
for  it." 

"You  mean  in  losing  her?" 

"Yes,  she  refused  even  to  speak  to  him  on  the 
ship." 

"But  does  she  love  you?"  asked  the  woman 
suddenly. 

"I  didn't  ask  her?" 

"What?" 


The  Woman  on  the  Stair          51 

"And  she  didn't  say.  What  do  you  think  about 
it?" 

"I  don't  know.  Not  exactly  as  a  husband. 
She  is  very  fond  of  you  in  other  ways,  you  have 
been  so  good  to  her  and  to  me. " 

Warburton  nodded  in  grave  acquiescence. 

"I  will  wait  for  the  rest, "  he  said.  " I  am  used 
to  waiting." 

"There  is  no  man  on  earth  I  would  rather  give 
my  daughter  to,  than  to  you,  John,"  said  the 
woman  dropping  into  the  familiar  address  of  earlier 
days,  "but  you  know — "  She  paused,  not  willing 
to  hurt  him. 

"You  mean  that  I  must  tell  her?" 

"Of  course." 

"I  had  intended  to  do  so  before  the  matter  went 
any  further,  before  any  public  announcement 
was  made,  and  I  shall  do  so  tonight.  Ah,"  he 
turned  his  head,  "I  hear  her  footstep  on  the 
stairs." 

"Shall  you  tell  her  now?" 

"Immediately." 

"Shall  I  leave  you  alone?" 

"By  no  means.  You  are  the  evidence  in  the 
case  and  necessary  to  the  story. " 

"Very  well,"  said  Mrs.  de  Selden,  who  was  not 
without  a  natural  and  womanly  curiosity  over  the 
forthcoming  interview  and  its  further  develop- 
ments. "I'm  sorry  that  you  have  to  tell  such  a 
story.  I'm  sorry  that  there  is  such  a  story,  but 
Chrissey  must  know." 


52  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Of  course,"  said  Warburton.  "I  cannot 
marry  her  under  a  false  pretence,  and  although  no 
one  knows  but  you  and  I,  it  would  certainly  come 
out  some  day.  I  am  sure  that  I  cannot  afford  to 
neglect  any  possibility  of  happiness.  Perhaps  it 
is  going  to  be  hard  enough  for  me  to  secure  it  for 
her,  to  say  nothing  of  myself,  as  it  is. " 

Warburton  never  spoke  a  truer  word.  Accus- 
tomed as  he  was  to  overcoming  great  obstacles, 
facing  fearful  odds  and  dominating  all  situations, 
no  task  to  which  he  could  apply  himself  would 
ever  bulk  as  large  as  this  one,  or  call  into  action 
qualities  which  the  very  strength  of  the  man  made 
it  more  difficult  for  him  to  employ.  He  might 
well  have  quailed  if  he  had  known,  as  he  turned  to 
the  hall  to  go  to  meet  the  woman  coming  slowly 
down  the  stair. 

Now  there  is  no  device  which  sets  off  a  beautiful 
woman  better  than  a  flight  of  stairs  provided  she 
knows  how  to  descend  them.  This  was  a  noble 
flight,  for  the  architect  having  plenty  of  money 
and  plenty  of  room,  even  on  upper  Fifth  Avenue, 
had  made  the  great  stair  the  finest  feature  of  the 
house. 

Chrissey  de  Selden  was  a  small  woman,  consider- 
ably under  the  average  feminine  height,  which 
seems  constantly  to  grow  greater,  but  she  fitted 
those  stairs  perfectly.  By  what  reasons  actuated 
she  had  not  stopped  to  find  out,  she  had  at  last 
put  on  her  most  beautiful  gown,  a  Parisienne  con- 
fection of  extraordinary  elegance,  the  soft  and 


The  Woman  on  the  Stair         53 

delicate  colour  of  which  became  her  as  a  consum- 
mate artist's  background  a  portrait. 

She  was  coming  down  slowly,  pausing  as  if  re- 
luctant upon  each  broad  tread,  her  outstretched 
foot,  dainty  to  distraction,  halted  in  air  a  second 
over  each  riser  as  if  loath  for  the  descent.  War- 
burton,  appearing  immensely  strong  and  stern  and 
self -repressed  but  with  unwonted  light  in  his  eyes, 
stood  at  the  foot  and  looked  up  toward  her.  He 
thought,  half -whimsically,  that  if  he  had  consulted 
his  inclination  he  would  have  taken  the  inter- 
vening steps  in  a  few  bounds  to  catch  her  in  his 
arms,  to  clasp  her  to  his  breast  and  almost  kiss  her 
life  away,  but  he  was  too  long  used  to  repression 
for  any  such  impulsive  action.  He  was  not  at  all 
sure  of  her.  A  strange  shyness  had  possessed 
him  in  her  presence.  So  he  only  waited,  erect, 
grave,  to  outward  intents  and  purposes  cool  and 
composed  although  his  heart  was  beating  like  a 
trip  hammer. 

The  lights  were  low  in  the  hall  and  softly 
shaded,  the  radiation  indirect.  It  seemed  to 
Warburton  that  little  Chrissey  de  Selden  was 
fairly  floating  toward  him.  He  had  something 
of  the  feeling  of  a  man  confronted  by  an  angel. 
Yet  he  could  have  played  Jacob  on  that  occa- 
sion without  difficulty.  Chrissey  de  Selden  had 
moved  abstractedly  upon  the  stair,  her  thoughts 
quite  otherwhere  until  she  caught  sight  of  War- 
burton  coming  through  the  door.  For  a  mo- 
ment her  heart  stood  still.  It  was  no  lover-like 


34  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

wave  of  emotion  that  caused  it  to  resume  its 
beat. 

This  was  the  first  time  she  had  seen  him  alone 
— there  was  no  one  else  in  the  hall,  she  could  not 
see  her  mother  in  the  drawing-room — since  he  had 
proposed  to  her.  She  had  accepted  him.  She  had 
promised  to  be  his  wife.  It  would  be  no  liberty 
on  his  part  if  he  presumed  upon  that  engagement 
to  take  her  in  his  arms,  to  kiss  her  with  a  passion 
that  she  had  sensed  vaguely  in  spite  of  his  repres- 
sion, yet  which  left  her  strangely  cold  and  in- 
different; yes,  more  than  indifferent,  slightly 
antagonistic,  repugnant  being  too  harsh  a  word 
just  then. 

He  looked  so  powerful  and  so  masterful  that  a 
little  fear  overcame  her.  To  what  had  she  too 
impulsively  pledged  herself?  What  obligations 
had  she  so  suddenly  assumed?  And  he  was  think- 
ing of  what  he  had  to  tell  her  and  wondering  if  it 
would  make  any  difference.  And  because  he  was 
so  in  love  with  her  John  the  fearless  was  afraid. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   REVELATION 

CHRISSEY  DE  SELDEN  had  held  her  head  high, 
and  in  an  age  when  familiarity  was  current  coin 
she  had  allowed  none  of  it  to  be  passed  upon  her. 
Her  flirtations  had  stopped  far  short  of  the  ordin- 
ary, much  more  the  extraordinary,  limits  of  her 
set  and  acquaintance.  She  was  virgin  in  body  as 
well  as  soul;  not  even  a  kiss,  no  other  caress. 
Stop!  She  crimsoned  as  she  recalled  Neyland. 
Swiftly  she  found  herself  asking  was  it  altogether 
shame  or —  Ah,  it  was  a  strange  mood  in 
which  to  descend  a  stair  toward  a  lover  waiting 
at  the  foot. 

However  else  she  might  typify  varying  woman, 
she  was  no  coward;  so,  after  the  first  momentary 
hesitation,  she  came  steadily  on,  but  with  each 
descending  step  her  apprehension  mounted  and  it 
was  by  sheer  nervous  force  and  will  that  she  at 
last  reached  her  lover's  side.  There  was  a  look  in 
his  eyes  that  she  had  never  seen,  so  swiftly  had  he 
progressed  since  the  morning.  As  before  she  put 
out  her  hand.  The  bare  and  beautiful  outstretched 
arm,  the  dainty  hand  held  before  him,  seemed  to 

55 


56  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

recall  Warburton  to  himself.  He  had  bent  toward 
her  as  she  stepped  to  the  floor  but  now  he  straight- 
ened up  in  a  slightly  awkward,  yet  curiously  im- 
pressive, way.  Then  he  took  her  hand  and  lifting 
it  up  he  kissed  it. 

That  she  had  escaped  was  her  first  feeling. 
There  was  that  in  the  pressure  of  his  lips  upon  her 
hand  that  told  her  from  what  she  escaped  and 
warned  her  that  she  could  not  always  hope  for 
immunity  in  the  future.  That  promise  of  mar- 
riage suddenly  bulked  large  before  her  vision. 
Warburton's  words  were  commonplace  enough. 
For  that  matter  he  had  proposed  to  her  in  a 
commonplace  way. 

"Christianna, "  he  began — she  had  never  liked 
the  name  and  she  liked  it  less  than  ever  then. 
If  he  would  only  call  her  Chrissey  or  Chris  like — 
"I  have  something  important  to  say  to  you  before 
our  engagement  is  announced,  after  which  it 
may  well  be  that  you  won't  care  to  pursue  it 
further." 

The  leap  of  her  heart  in  her  bosom  should  have 
warned  her.  There  was  a  chance!  The  way  of 
retreat  was  open.  Richard  Neyland  might  still — 
She  stiffened  herself  visibly.  He  could  see  and, 
as  might  be  expected,  he  misinterpreted  it.  He 
dropped  her  hand  and  pointed  toward  the  door. 
Her  words  reassured  him. 

"  I  can  think  of  nothing  which  would  make  me 
withdraw  or 

"Regret?"  he  interposed  passing  into  the  room. 


The  Revelation  57 

"  Mother, "  she  began  as  she  saw  Mrs.  de  Selden, 
"I  am — I  have — Mr.  Warburton " 

She  who  was  usually  fluent,  faltered,  stopped. 
Her  mother  rose  and  came  toward  her  and  put  her 
arm  about  her  wondering  at  her  hesitancy. 

"  I  know, "  she  said,  "John  told  me. " 

"John,"  said  the  girl  vaguely.  She  had  never 
in  all  her  life  thought  of  him  by  that  name. 
Would  she  have  to  call  him  John,  when — after — ? 
"You  have  something  to  say  to  me?"  she  began, 
looking  at  him. 

"I  offered  to  withdraw  and  let  him  say  it  alone," 
said  her  mother. 

"I  asked  her  to  remain." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  girl.  "What  could  you 
have  to  say  to  me  that  my  mother  could  not  hear?  " 

Now  had  it  been  any  other  man  than  Warburton 
she  might  have  found  many  reasons  for  a  desire 
on  his  part  for  speech  alone  with  her,  and  Warbur- 
ton was  quick  enough  to  notice,  but  as  usual  he 
gave  no  sign. 

"Won't  you  sit  down?  "  he  asked  as  he  walked  to 
the  mantelpiece  and  stood.  He  liked  to  face 
difficult  situations  standing.  "You  are  familiar 
with  my  career  since  your  father's  death  and  since 
he  made  me  executor  of  his  will  and  guardian  of 
his  daughter." 

"Of  course." 

"You  know  also  from  what  a  splendid  line  you 
have  sprung  both  on  your  mother's  side  and  on 
your  father's,"  he  went  on,  smiling  slightly  as  the 


58  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

girl  bowed,  wondering  to  what  this  might  tend. 
' '  On  that  score  as  on  every  other  I  am  no  match 
for  you.  I  said  that  when  I  asked  you  to  be  my 
wife." 

"Yes,  but  I  did  not  credit  that,  Mr.  Warburton." 

"And  that  is  not  my  name." 

"Not  your  name!     I  don't  understand." 

"Your  father  gave  it  to  me  and  I  have,  I  trust, 
borne  it  with  dignity  and  honour." 

"Certainly  that,"  said  Mrs.  de  Selden. 

"But  as  your  mother  very  well  knows  I  have  no 
claim  to  it. " 

"What  is  your  name?"  burst  out  the  girl. 

"I  do  not  know." 

"Mystery  upon  mystery.  Will  you  please  ex- 
plain directly?" 

"Certainly.  Before  your  father  married  he 
lived  in  a  big  house  overlooking  the  Hudson 
River  on  Warburton  Avenue,  Yonkers.  It  was 
sold  some  years  since  and  torn  down  to  make  way 
for  real  estate  developments. " 

"I  remember  it  perfectly." 

"Coming  home  from  the  theatre  one  winter 
night  his  coachman  stopped  his  horses  just  inside 
the  lodge  gate.  There  was  a  bundle  in  a  basket 
lying  by  the  road-side.  Philip  de  Selden  got  out 
to  investigate.  As  he  drew  near  he  heard  a  cry. 
There  was  life  in  the  bundle.  He  picked  it  up 
and  drove  to  the  house,  took  it  within,  and  called 
his  mother.  They  unwrapped  it  and  discovered  a 
baby." 


The  Revelation  59 

"Was  it  you?" 

"  So  I  have  been  told. " 

"Was  there  nothing  to  identify  it?" 

"Not  a  thing.  The  baby  was  poorly  dressed. 
There  were  no  marks  on  its  body  or  clothes,  no 
jewelry  of  any  sort.  The  things  which  always 
appear  in  stories  of  foundlings  by  which  in  after 
years  their  parentage  is  discovered  were  not  there. 
There  was  absolutely  no  clue  of  any  kind.  I  do 
not  know  who  my  parents  were  or  why  one  of 
them  or  both  of  them  left  me  there  and  I  never 
shall  know.  Personally  I  care  little  for  ancestors. 
I  judge  men,  I  estimate  them,  by  their  merits 
alone.  Family  means  nothing  to  me,  not  even 
yours  in  that  way.  I  should  never  have  loved 
you  for  your  ancestry  but  for  your  self." 

"And  you  say  there  was  nothing?" 

"One  thing  you  forgot,  John,"  said  Mrs.  de 
Selden.  "We  do  know  this.  Your  father  has 
often  told  me  the  story,  my  dear.  The  day 
after  they  found  you  the  body  of  a  woman  was 
taken  out  of  the  river.  She  had  been  in  the  water 
but  a  few  hours.  She  was  young,  good-looking, 
well-bred,  I  am  told,  but  she  was  poor.  Her 
clothing  was  threadbare  and  without  a  mark." 

"No  jewelry?"  asked  the  girl. 

"Nothing,  not  even  a  wedding  ring.  Your 
father  personally  examined  her  effects.  Somehow 
he  connected  the  woman  with  the  baby,  but  there 
was  absolutely  nothing.  He  had  her  decently 
buried " 


60  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I  put  a  cross  over  her  grave,"  said  Warburton 
quietly,  "on  the  chance  that  she  might  have  been 
my  mother." 

"That  was  like  you, "  said  the  girl  softly. 

"So  I  have  no  name.  I  may  do  wrong  to  that 
unknown  mother  but  it  is  probable  that  I  was  a 
child  of  shame.  There  was  no  ring.  And  even 
if  I  found  her  I  could  bear  no  name  but  hers  what- 
ever it  might  be." 

He  was  a  proud  man  and  this  that  he  was  say- 
ing was  not  easy  as  the  two  women  could  well 
understand. 

"Tell  me  more." 

"There  is  little  more  to  tell.  Your  father  was 
a  generous  man.  Perhaps,  if  he  had  not  found  the 
body  in  the  river  opposite  his  door  he  would  have 
sent  me  to  some  institution.  I  understand  it  made 
a  deep  impression  upon  him." 

"I  can  testify  to  that,"  said  Mrs.  de  Selden. 
"  He  has  often  told  me  the  appeal  the  big,  solemn, 
unsmiling  baby  made  to  him.  You  were  always 
unsmiling,  John." 

"  I  think  I  shall  change  that  if  we  go  on. " 

"  Tell  me  the  rest, "  said  the  girl  passing  over  the 
appeal. 

"Your  father  named  me  Warburton,  whimsi- 
cally enough,  from  the  avenue  where  he  found  me 
and  John  because  he  liked  the  name.  I  was  given 
to  respectable  and  worthy  people  to  rear,  and 
when  he  married  your  mother  and  no  son  blessed 
their  union,  he  told  her  the  story,  and  they  took  me 


The  Revelation  61 

into  their  own  family.  I  owe  everything  to  him, 
— name,  education,  fortune,  since  he  gave  me  my 
start, — and  if  you  do  not  withdraw  your  consent, 
my  wife.  Whether  you  do  or  not,  this  had  to  be 
told  to  you  and  I  have  this  to  add,  I  shall  abun- 
dantly justify  you  if  knowing  this,  which  no  one 
living  but  your  mother  and  you  and  I  know,  you 
find  it  impossible  to  go  on.  Even  then  I  shall  only 
be  thankful  to  him  because  he  has  enabled  me  to 
know  you  through  his  kindness  to  that  forlorn, 
abandoned  baby  on  that  bitter  winter  night  forty 
years  ago." 

Chrissey  de  Selden  rose  and  her  mother  with  her. 

"My  dear,"  said  the  older  woman.  "I  did  not 
force  this  story  from  Mr.  Warburton's  lips.  He 
told  me  that  he  intended  to  tell  you  at  the  first 
opportunity  and  he  has  done  so.  Your  father  was 
a  very  proud  man.  He  valued  family,  birth,  repu- 
tation, above  everything,  yet  I  believe  if  he  were 
here  he  would  be  glad  to  have  you  the  wife  of  so 
true  and  strong  a  man  as  John."  She  extended 
her  hand  to  him.  "My  husband  committed  us 
to  your  care  when  he  died,"  she  continued,  "and 
nobly  have  you  fulfilled  his  trust.  If  I  were  to 
die  I  should  not  hesitate  to  commit  to  your  care 
and  affection  the  most  precious  thing  he  left  be- 
hind— his  daughter." 

"  I  thank  you.  There  is  but  one  reward  greater 
than  that." 

He  looked  gravely  toward  the  girl,  who  quite 
understood.  Here  was  her  chance  of  escape,  she 


62  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

thought.  Escape?  Had  she  entered  into  a  prison 
or —  It  was  impossible  to  avail  herself  of  that 
opportunity.  After  all  what  did  it  matter. 
Whimsical,  fantastic  as  had  been  her  father's 
fancy  in  his  naming  of  the  child,  Warburton  him- 
self had  made  the  name  great  and  it  really  made 
no  difference  at  all  that  he  had  no  right  to  it. 

"It  makes  no  difference  at  all/'  she  voiced  her 
thought,  looking  up  at  him.  "You  are  the  Ru- 
dolph of  Hapsburg  of  your  family,"  she  quoted 
lightly,  forcing  herself  to  smile,  "Your  patent  of 
nobility  dates  from  that  winter  night." 

"That  it  was  your  father's  hand  that  admin- 
istered the  accolade,"  he  countered,  attempting  to 
emulate  her  own  playfulness,  "makes  it  the  more 
satisfying. " 

"That  is  settled  then?"  said  the  girl.  "And 
now,"  she  glanced  through  the  door  at  the  tall 
clock  in  the  hall,  "it  is  very  late  for  dinner. " 

She  wondered,  when  she  spoke,  if  she  would  have 
thought  of  dinner  if  handsome  Dick  Neyland  or 
even  the  gallant  little  Duke  had  been  the  one  to 
whom  she  had  pledged  her  hand. 

"I've  kept  you  waiting  a  long  time.  Let  us 
go, "  said  Warburton  contritely. 

"Perhaps  some  day  you  will  find  out." 

"I  shall  never  find  out.  I  don't  wish  to. 
Since  it  is  no  bar  to  my  possession  of  you  it 
amounts  to  nothing. ,  I  presume, "  he  answered  as 
he  followed  her  into  the  dining-room,  "that  you 
have  no  objection  to  a  public  announcement." 


The  Revelation  63 

"The  sooner  the  better. " 

"And  the  wedding. " 

"As  we  agreed, — the  last  of  October." 

"What  day?" 

"Thursday  is  the  best  day  of  all,  isn't  it,  accord- 
ing to  the  popular  rhyme?" 

"I  don't  know  any  rhymes,"  he  replied,  "but 
any  day  you  set  will  be  the  best  day  of  all  for  me. " 

This  was  a  more  gallant  speech  than  she  had 
thought  him  capable  of. 


CHAPTER  VII 

TEMPTATION 

WHILE  this  quiet  little  family  dinner  was  being 
discussed  at  Warburton's  home  a  dinner  of  quite 
another  sort  with  quite  other  consequences  was 
taking  place  in  surroundings  which  could  scarcely 
be  characterized  as  homelike  or  suited  for  a  family 
gathering ;  or,  even  within  the  loosest  construction 
of  the  word,  as  proper.  Billy  Alton  arranged  it, 
and  like  everything  Billy  arranged  it  was  an  unique 
function  quite  worthy  of  the  reputation  of  the 
host  and  the  character  of  his  guests. 

The  guests  of  honour  were  the  Duca  di  Attavanti 
and  Mr.  Richard  Neyland.  Again  Mr.  Billy 
Alton's  qualities  as  a  composer  of  quarrels  appeared 
to  equal  advantage  with  his  talents  as  a  master  of 
risque  entertainments.  Billy  was  fond  of  refer- 
ring to  his  little  dinners  as  so  "risique!"  He 
foisted  that  charmingly  humorous  mis-pronunci- 
ation upon  some  of  the  numerous  chorus  ladies  of 
his  acquaintance,  for  Billy  could  speak  French 
after  a  fashion,  if  not  so  correctly  or  so  fluently 
as  the  Duke  or  Neyland. 

Mr.  Alton  was  about  to  signalize  his  withdrawal 
64 


Temptation  65 

for  the  second,  or  it  might  have  been  the  third  or 
fourth  time  for  all  that  was  definitely  known — in  his 
set  the  number  was  of  little  moment — from  the 
ranks  of  the  unwedded,  temporarily.  With  the 
fatal  facility  with  which  such  changes  are  brought 
about  in  New  York  he  was  about  to  take  unto  him- 
self a  young  woman  to  whom,  according  to  rumour, 
he  had  long  been  devoted.  In  fact  his  devotion, 
public  and  pronounced,  had  been  the  means 
whereby  the  lady  had  got  her  freedom  from  hus- 
band number  two.  Why  she  had  divorced  hus- 
band number  one,  was  a  matter  of  no  consequence 
to  Billy. 

Fresh  from  Nevada,  possessed  of  charms  which 
had  not  yet  become  dulled  by  use,  and  blessed 
with  much  money,  which  the  gentleman  whose 
name  she  had  borne  previously  had  only  been  too 
glad  to  give  her  for  his  freedom,  she  was  in  every 
way  a  good  match  for  the  affluent  Billy  Alton. 
When  it  is  said  that  they  both  moved  in  the  high- 
est social  circles,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  some  of 
the  oldest  families  like  the  Tayloes  would  have 
none  of  the  one  or  the  other,  all  that  is  necessary 
has  been  recorded. 

Billy  Alton  was  more  than  a  man  about  town. 
Like  Neyland  he  had  been  a  man  about  the  world, 
but  not  in  the  same  way.  It  had  been  his  fancy 
to  take  his  ease  luxuriously  in  his  inn  wherever  on 
the  globe  that  inn  might  chance  to  be.  He  was  a 
thoroughly  likable,  thoroughly  up-to-date  young 
American,  quite  admirable  in  many  ways  except 


66  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

in  his  views  of  life,  which,  however,  since  they 
accorded  with  those  held  by  so  many  of  his  con- 
temporaries, he  held  with  cheerful  equanimity. 

On  one  of  his  dolce-far-niente  trips  to  Europe  he 
had  met  the  Duke.  The  latter  had  been  attracted 
to  him  because  he  was  so  different,  the  usual  basis 
for  attraction.  When  the  Duke  decided  to  come 
to  America  he  had  cabled  Alton  and  accordingly 
Alton  met  him  at  the  steamer.  His  rooms  had 
been  arranged  for,  he  had  been  put  up  at  the  best 
clubs,  and  to  make  the  welcome  complete  Alton 
had  planned  a  little  dinner  that  night  at  one  of  the 
fastest  and  most  exclusive  resorts  of  young  men 
about  town.  Exclusive  as  to  its  patrons,  those 
who  paid;  not  quite  so  discriminating  as  to  those 
who  attracted  them  there  and  profited  from  their 
presence. 

Now  it  happened  that  Billy  was  a  very  warm 
friend,  albeit  a  friend  of  the  worst  type,  to  Neyland. 
Neyland  had  not  told  any  one  of  his  return.  There 
was  no  one  who  had  much  interest  in  his  arrival 
since  he  was  without  kith  or  kin,  so  that  his  appear- 
ance was  a  surprise  to  his  friend.  Alton  seized 
upon  him  at  once.  Neyland's  apartment,  which  he 
reserved  constantly  in  the  big  building  on  Park 
Avenue,  had  not  been  made  ready  for  him.  It 
would  have  been  a  cheerless  place  to  go  to.  Alton 
insisted  upon  dispatching  Neyland's  man  to  get 
things  in  shape  and  meanwhile  claimed  him  for 
the  night. 

There  was  to  be  a  dinner-party.     He  winked  at 


Temptation  67 

Neyland,  who  well  understood  the  low  insinuation 
of  the  eyelid,  and  Neyland  low-spirited,  lonesome, 
depressed,  and  humiliated,  agreed  to  come.  In 
his  excitement  Billy  had  not  mentioned  that  the 
Duke  was  to  be  present  at  the  party,  and  as  the 
latter  and  his  man  were  busy  with  their  baggage 
on  the  pier  Neyland  had  no  suspicion  of  it.  He  had 
some  business  affairs  of  his  own  to  attend  to  after 
so  long  an  absence.  He  told  Alton  he  would  meet 
him  at  his  rooms  in  plenty  of  time  to  dress  for  the 
dinner.  And  then  he  went  away. 

As  Alton  and  the  Duke  bumped  over  the  rough 
cobbles  with  which  New  York  considerately 
paves  its  approaches  to  its  transatlantic  steamer 
piers,  the  conversation  turned  on  the  voyage  and 
it  soon  developed  that  there  was  bad  blood  be- 
tween him  and  Neyland,  Billy's  two  principal 
guests.  Bad  blood  between  two  such  men  meant 
money  or  a  woman.  Money  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion since  each  had  all  he  needed  and  since  Billy 
could  testify  from  experience  that  both  were  good 
losers.  It  must  therefore  be  a  woman.  Under 
the  circumstances  it  could  be  no  other  than 
Chrissey  de  Selden.  Billy's  questions  went  direct 
to  the  heart  of  the  matter  and  seeing  how  much 
he  knew  the  Duke  at  last  told  him  every- 
thing including  the  news  of  her  engagement  to 
Warburton. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  the  practical  American, 
at  last,  "that  you  both  behaved  like  a  couple  of 
lunatics,  and  since  the  lady  is  for  neither  of  you 


68  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

I  don't  see  any  reason  why  you  shouldn't  be 
friends.  Neyland's  the  best  fellow  in  the  world 
when  he's  sober,  and  I  don't  believe  you  bear 
malice  for  that  jab  in  the  shoulder." 

The  Duke,  who  had  been  inclined  to  take  um- 
brage at  the  other's  offhanded  way  of  discussing 
things  so  personal,  was  forced  to  laugh. 

"Other  countries,  other  customs,"  he  quoted  in 
his  broken  English,  which  was  sufficiently  intelli- 
gible and  quite  delightful.  Under  the  teaching  of 
Miss  Rose  Tayloe,  who  had  given  him  lessons 
on  the  voyage,  he  had  progressed  wonderfully. 
"It  shall  be  as  you  say,  arnica  mio.  I  do  not 
intend  to  spoil  my  visit  to  your  great  country 
by  private  enmities  and  since  la  bella  signorina 
obviously  prefers  neither  of  us  it  is  foolish  to 
quarrel.  I  know  not  how  it  will  appeal  to  Signer 
Neyland  but  as  for  me " 

"Well  that's  handsome  of  you,  Duke,"  said 
his  American  friend,  "and  inasmuch  as  he  stuck 
a  knife  into  you  if  you  are  willing  to  let  by-gones 
be  by-gones  I  don't  see  why  he  shouldn't.  I'll 
see  that  he  is,  in  fact." 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Duke,  his  pride  a  little 
ruffled.  "But  let  me  assure  you  most  earnestly 
that  if  you  or  he  or  any  gentleman  in  America 
thinks  that  because  of  that  unfortunate  hap- 
pening any  one  of  you  is  my  match  with  the 
sword " 

"Go  on,"  said  the  American  laughing,  "we're 
no  sword  fighters  over  here.  I  have  no  doubt  you 


Temptation  69 

could  lick  the  whole  caboodle  of  us  with  one  hand 
if  we  came  at  you  according  to  the  rule." 

"That  is  just  it.      You  do  not  fight  by  the  rules." 

"We  don't  know  'em,  that's  the  reason." 

Consequently,  when  Neyland  and  the  Duke  met 

in   Billy   Alton's   apartment   before   the   supper 

there  was  no  outbreak.     The  two  men  extended 

hands  simultaneously,  so  that  neither  could  accuse 

the  other  of  being  the  first  to  bury  the  hatchet. 

Billy  had  prepared  Neyland  for  the  reconciliation. 

"What  in  blazes  is  the  use  of  continuing  the 

quarrel  with  the  Duke,  who  is  one  of  the  best 

fellows  in  the  world  if  he  is  a  Dago,  when  neither 

of  you   has   a  ghost   of  a  show  with  the  girl?" 

had   been  his  irreverent  but  quite  unanswerable 

argument. 

The  Duke's  temper  was  more  elastic  than  Ney- 
land's.  Marriage  in  his  view  was  more  a  matter  of 
arrangement  than  love  anyway.  Chrissey  de 
Selden  had  dazzled  him  but  he  had  not  allowed 
himself  to  get  so  deeply  involved  as  not  to  be 
able  to  look  elsewhere  with  honour  and  dignity 
and  a  chance  at  happiness.  He  had  already  begun 
to  realize  that  there  were  other  fish  in  the  American 
seas,  although  he  would  have  died  rather  than 
have  referred  even  metaphorically  to  so  charming 
a  girl  as  Rose  Tayloe,  for  instance,  as  a  fish.  Ac- 
cordingly he  was  more  hearty  and  agreeable  in  the 
reconciliation  than  the  other,  which  was  the  more 
magnanimous  since  he  was  the  more  injured  of 
the  two. 


70  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

So  they  went  to  the  dinner  amicably  enough. 
It  was  as  such  dinners  always  are,  the  fun  and  the 
guests  were  alike  fast  and  furious.  The  gay 
youths  and  some  whom  youth  had  passed  long 
since,  enjoyed  the  witty,  highly  spiced  repartee 
of  the  young  ladies  provided  by  the  establishment 
for  the  purpose  of  stimulating  the  patrons  to 
the  full  limit,  with  the  exception  of  the  Duke 
and  Neyland. 

The  Italian  was  no  prude.  He  had  had  his 
fling  like  other  well-born  and  well-to-4o  young 
men  of  the  continent.  But  there  was  a  singular 
strain  of  simplicity  and  dignity  about  him,  a 
heritage  of  his  long  ancestry  in  the  mountains 
of  the  Abruzzi,  which  gave  him  a  certain  reserve 
in  scenes  like  that.  He  was  no  spoil-sport,  how- 
ever. He  was  just  different,  a  looker-on  in  this 
mad  Vienna.  Where  the  others  drank  to  excess 
he  was  moderate.  Where  the  others  descended 
to  depths  he  remained  on  the  entrant  level,  not 
a  high  level  in  a  place  like  that  but  still  higher 
than  the  rest. 

The  real  kill-joy  was  Neyland.  He  did  not 
drink  anything  and  he  responded  with  a  rough 
contempt  quite  unlike  him  even  to  the  boldest 
feminine  advances.  He  had  drunk  nothing  in 
the  smoking-room  of  the  Acquitania.  Chrissey  de 
Selden's  presence  had  kept  him  from  it  and  in  the 
recollection  of  what  he  had  done  that  night  at 
Sorrento,  after  one  awful  collapse  at  Genoa 
following  the  duel,  he  had  remained  sober  in 


Temptation  71 

Europe  by  keeping  away  from  temptation.  That 
was  his  only  safe  course.  One  reason  why  he  so 
enjoyed  exploring  the  wilds  was  because,  whatever 
his  inclination,  he  could  get  no  whiskey  there, 
and  in  the  perils  in  which  he  invariably  plunged 
he  had  to  keep  straight  to  keep  alive. 

He  always  came  back  from  one  of  those  ad- 
ventures clear-eyed,  ruddy-cheeked,  ready,  and 
resolute.  And  the  spell  of  Chrissey  de  Selden's 
presence,  although  she  had  avoided  him  like  a 
pestilence  on  the  steamer,  was  still  upon  him. 
Without  meaning  profanation  he  contrasted  her 
with  the  light-hearted — at  least  they  looked  so — 
light-headed,  light-moralled  young  ladies  who  sur- 
rounded them,  and  he  ate  his  dinner  in  gloomy 
silence. 

When  it  broke  up,  that  is  when  the  men  left 
the  table  with  an  intent  to  plunge  lower  and 
deeper  throughout  the  night,  he  pleaded  indisposi- 
tion. Billy  Alton,  convinced  that  there  must  be 
something  back  of  such  a  refusal,  excused  himself 
from  the  guests,  and  the  Duke  also  expressing 
the  desire  to  join  the  two  Americans,  the  three 
men  left  the  others,  who  were  quite  capable  of 
having  what  they  called  a  good  time  unaided, 
and  went  back  to  Alton's  rooms. 

Very  snug  and  comfortable  they  looked.  There 
was  a  fire  burning  on  the  hearth,  on  a  low  con- 
venient stand  a  great  silver  waiter  was  placed. 
Within  its  narrow  railing  stood  bottles,  squat, 
fat,  black,  with  labels  that  spoke  of  Scotland, 


72  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Ireland,  and  old  Kentucky,  and  round-bottomed 
clearer  bottles  of  soda  in  stands.  There  was  a 
tub  of  ice  and  a  box  of  Alton's  big  black  imported 
Havanas,  almost  as  strong  and  as  deadly  as  the 
whiskey,  with  some  priceless  cigarettes  for  the 
Duke. 

"Cheer  up,  old  man,"  said  Alton  as  the  three 
sat  down  in  low  chairs  before  the  fire  after  Alton 
had  poured  a  very  liberal  drink  for  himself  and 
a  very  modest  one  for  the  Duke  and  the  cigars 
and  cigarettes  had  been  lighted.  "Don't  take 
it  so  hard." 

He  had  not  taken  enough  wine  within  for  all 
wit  to  run  out,  but  the  various  drinks  he  had 
imbibed  had  displaced  a  good  deal  of  discretion 
and  reticence. 

"  There's  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  have  ever  been 
caught, "  he  hiccoughed  out.  "Look  at  Attavanti 
here.  He's  a  dead  game  sport  all  right.  He  takes 
it  like  a  man  and  I  have  no  doubt  he'll  find " 

"If  you  please,"  said  the  Duke,  "I  had  much 
rather  you  do  not  bring  any  lady's  name  into  the 
conversation.  You  will  pardon  me,  I  am  sure." 

"That's  all  right,"  Alton  maundered  on,  "we 
know  what  you  mean.  Look  at  me.  I'm  going 
to  be  married  next  week  to  the  finest  woman  in 
New  York.  You  know  when  I  first  came  here 
I  thought  she  was  the  greatest  little  girl  I'd 
ever  met  but  she  was  married  to  Glitton  then. 
I  half  made  up  my  mind  that  I'd  made  a  run  for 
her  anyway  but  while  I  was  over  in  Italy  shooting 


Temptation  73 

with  you,  Attavanti,  she  got  a  divorce  and  married 
Harberd.  That  did  make  me  mad.  If  I  hadn't 
been  in  Europe  I'd  have  been  Johnny-on-the-spot 
all  right  with  that  lovely  little  grass  widow.  I 
thought  she  was  too  far  above  me  for  that  sort 
of  thing  or  I  wouldn't  have  gone  away.  But 
if  she  could  divorce  Glitton  there  was  no  reason 
why  she  couldn't  divorce  Harberd,  so  I  cut  in 
when  I  came  back.  You've  been  away  six  months 
but  I  guess  you've  read  all  about  it,  Dick." 

"Yes." 

"She  got  her  second  divorce  and  I'm  going  to 
marry  her  next  week." 

"Er — pardon, "  asked  the  Duke,  "is  the  practise 
common  in  America?" 

"Oh,  quite,  in  the  best  circles." 

"And  do  you  and  the  lady  contemplate  a 
long  continuance  of  the  forthcoming  matrimonial 
relation?" 

"You  never  can  tell,  old  man.  She  may  get 
tired  of  me  or  I  may  get  tired  of  her,  but  I've  got 
her  now  and  I'm  going  to  hold  on  to  her  until 
that  time  does  come." 

"What's  this  got  to  do  with  me,"  said  Neyland 
abruptly.  "Do  you  mean  to  insinuate " 

"I  should  think  a  blind  man  could  see  what  I 
mean,  and  if  you  were  not  so  dead  in  love  you 
could  see." 

"Alton,"  thundered  Neyland,  "I  won't  hear 
another  word." 

"Yes  you  will,"  said  the  maudlin  Alton  im- 


74  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

perturbably.  "You're  too  big  to  attack  me 
and  this  is  my  house  and  you  are  my  guest  and 
I'm  not  quite  myself  anyway,"  he  went  on.  "I 
wouldn't  despair  if  I  were  you.  Warburton's 
twice  as  old  as  that  girl  and  he's  as  cold  as  a  fish. 
She'll  get  tired  of  him.  Just  you  wait,  you'll 
get  her  yet." 

"If  you  say  another  word,  I  don't  care  if 
you  are  half  my  size, "  cried  Neyland  furiously, 
"I'll  choke  you  till  your  face  is  as  black  as  your 
character." 

"I  guess  I'd  be  dead  by  the  time  you  brought 
that  about,"  laughed  Billy.  "Well,  a  man  in 
love  is  always  a  fool,  eh  Duke?" 

"Are  you  very  much  in  love,  Alton?"  asked 
the  Duke  disdainfully. 

"Passionately,  and  you  mean  I'm  a  fool.  Well, 
it  shows  your  Italian  politeness  that  you  didn't 
say  it, "  admitted  the  even-tempered  Billy.  "I'm 
not  going  to  quarrel  with  you  two  fellows  about 
any  woman  or  anything  else.  Pass  the  whiskey. 
You'll  notice,  Dick, "  he  continued  pouring  himself 
another  drink,  "that  I  don't  give  the  Duke  any 
advice  of  that  kind.  He's  a  sensible  man  and  he's 
already  looking  elsewhere.  There's  Ro 

"Pardon  me  again,"  interrupted  the  Duke 
quickly,  "I  quite  agree  with  Mr.  Neyland,  we 
cannot  continue  the  discussion,  even  by  implica- 
tion, of  any  lady." 

"Touchy  too!  You're  a  damn  hot  pair  and 
there's  not  a  trace  of  philosophy  in  either  of  you. 


Temptation  75 

Everybody  in  New  York  is  a  philosopher  when 
it  comes  to  matrimony.     Got  to  be.     The  one 
thing  about  married  life  in  New  York  is  that  it's 
changeable.     'To    one    thing    constant    never," 
quoted  the  irrepressible  Alton. 

"If  you  will  excuse  me,-"  said  the  Duke  with 
great  dignity,  "it  is  not  so  in  my  country  and  I 
believe  I  like  my  country  better." 

"Every  man  to  his  taste,"  responded  the  host. 
"I've  seen  some  mighty  fine  women  in  Italy 
and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Becky  Glitton-Harberd- 
whatever-was-her-first-name-I-don't-know  I  might 
have  found  a  wife  there." 

"I  am  glad  you  did  not, "  said  the  Duke  gravely. 
"You  would  have  to  stick  to  one  over  there,  I  am 
afraid." 

"Yes,  I  thought  of  that  too." 

"And  now  as  it  is  quite  late  for  a  simple  soldier" 
— he  laughed  pleasantly  enough;  after  all,  the  ways 
of  these  Americans  were  no  concern  of  his — "per- 
haps I  may  bid  you  good-night." 

"I'll  do  more  than  that, "  said  the  obliging  Billy, 
"I'll  escort  you  to  your  rooms  myself.  Neyland 
won't  mind  being  left  alone." 

"On  the  contrary,"  said  Neyland  savagely. 

"Your  bedroom  is  over  there,"  said  Alton, 
"you  can  turn  in  whenever  you  want." 

"Tell  your  man  not  to  disturb  me  in  the  morn 
ing.     Good-night  to  both  of  you." 

But  Neyland  did  not  go  to  bed.  He  sat  before 
the  fire  staring  into  it  and  thinking.  Of  course 


76  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Chrissey  de  Selden  must  care  a  great  deal  for  a 
man  like  Warburton  to  marry  him,  but  would 
there  be  any  natural  affinity  between  twenty-two 
and  forty-two.  He  did  not  know  how  old  War- 
burton  was  and  he  gave  himself  all  the  benefit  of 
the  doubt.  Could  he,  if  he  waited  long  enough, 
win  her  for  his  own? 

Now  if  there  was  a  good  thing  in  Neyland  it 
was  his  love  for  Chrissey  de  Selden.  It  had  not 
sufficed  to  prevent  his  hideous  conduct  at  Sorrento 
but  he  excused  himself  a  little  because  he  had 
not  been  master  of  himself  then.  He  could  not 
bear  to  think  of  the  possibility  that  Billy  Alton 
had  put  into  his  mind;  it  seemed  another  insult 
to  her  and  yet  he  could  not  forget  it.  Nor  was 
the  situation  even  with  that  prospect,  a  pleasant 
one,  for  he  loved  her  enough  to  be  torn  with  jealous 
fury  at  the  idea  of  her  being  married  even  for  an 
hour  to  Warburton.  He  would  fain  not  think 
of  the  future,  immediate  or  remote, — both  were 
agonizing. 

The  tumult  in  his  breast  shook  him  to  the  very 
centre  of  his  being.  This  was  really  the  first 
opportunity  he  had  had  to  think  the  thing  over 
undisturbed.  He  had  been  feverishly  busy  during 
the  day,  designedly  so.  But  now!  Chrissey  de 
Selden  in  Warburton 's  arms!  She  had  been 
thrown  there  by  Neyland's  action;  Neyland  who 
would  have  given  his  life  for  her  love. 

There  is  always  a  time  when  resisting  power  is 
weakest  and  the  period  of  greatest  demand  in- 


Temptation  77 

variably  coincides  with  it.  Alton's  half-filled 
glass  was  within  reach  of  Neyland's  hand.  The 
pungent  odour  of  the  liquor  filled  the  air.  The 
tempted  man  looked  at  it  a  long  time.  What  was 
the  use  of  fighting  further  ?  He  was  in  hell  already. 
He  might  as  well  get  out  of  it  whatever  the  devil 
could  give.  He  took  the  glass,  filled  it  to  the  brim. 
No  ice,  no  water.  He  lifted  it  up  and  inhaled  it. 
For  a  moment  he  forgot.  Then  he  put  it  down  and 
thought  a  little  longer.  Then  he  lifted  it  up 
once  more  and  the  inhalation  was  longer  and  more 
satisfying.  He  tasted  it,  just  a  swallow  or  two. 
He  put  it  down  again.  He  could  drink  like  a 
gentleman.  He  was  his  own  master.  Who  would 
gainsay  that?  He  could  stop  if  he  would.  Of 
course ! 

He  thought  of  Chrissey  de  Selden.  Well  he 
had  touched  her  in  Sorrento.  She  would  never 
be  the  same  girl  again.  He  laughed.  She  had 
his  brand  on  her.  Thoughts  of  the  filles  de  joie 
who  had  hovered  around  him  that  night  obtruded 
themselves.  He  saw  their  smiling,  leering,  beauti- 
ful, evil  faces.  Yes,  it  was  indicative  of  the 
tumult  in  his  soul  and  the  depths  to  which  he 
could  descend.  There  Chrissey  de  Selden  stood 
in  the  midst  of  them  not  smiling,  not  leering, 
still,  pale,  cold,  proud — but  there!  In  changing 
mood  he  cursed  himself  and  suddenly  drank  deep 
and  cursed  himself  and  drank  again  deeper.  Then 
he  laughed  and,  tossing  the  glass  into  the  fire,  he 
seized  the  bottle  and  drank  again  and  saw  her 


78  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

once  more  under  his  hand  as  that  night,  only 
now  she  was  smiling  like  the  rest. 

He  got  up  at  last,  put  on  his  hat  and  coat  and 
staggered  out.  He  hailed  a  passing  night-hawk 
cab  and  took  the  deep  plunge,  by  this  time  dead 
to  every  finer  feeling,  dead  to  every  uplifting 
dream,  dead  to  every  noble  aspiration — a  beast. 
Which  is  an  insult  to  the  animal.  Into  the  mire 
he  sank  forgetting  everything  but  the  feel  of  the 
warm,  loathsome  ooze. 

When  Billy  Alton  returned  he  looked  into  Ney- 
land's  room  and  was  not  surprised  to  find  it  empty. 
The  night  air  had  somewhat  sobered  that  convivial 
young  man.  He  was  in  possession  of  his  wits. 
He  crossed  the  room  and  looked  down  at  the  tray 
of  glasses  and  bottles  and  then  he  laughed. 

' ' That'll  do  him  good, ' '  he  soliloquized.  "He's 
on  the  town  now.  He'll  forget  her.  Nothing 
like  one  woman  to  knock  out  another.  Well,  I 
don't  want  to  forget  Becky  but  just  the  same 
I'll  take  another  to  her  health,  and  may  she  be  Mrs. 
Alton  until  we  are  both  good  and  tired  of  the 
relationship." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    VOICE    OF    SOCIETY 

WHEN  John  Warburton  arrived  at  his  office 
the  next  morning  he  was  greeted  by  a  battalion 
of  reporters.  His  return  after  so  long  an  absence 
gave  the  newspaper  men  their  first  opportunity 
to  get  in  touch  with  him.  They  were  filled  with 
questions.  He  was  too  wise  a  man  to  antagonize 
the  newspapers  unnecessarily  and  although  he 
could  keep  his  own  counsel — none  better — he 
knew  the  value  of  journalistic  publicity  too  well 
to  neglect  it  when  it  was  to  his  interest  to  use  it. 

Two  reasons  actuated  him  in  giving  notice 
of  his  engagement.  He  was  too  shrewd  not  to 
realize  that  the  story  of  that  night  at  Sorrento 
might  easily  get  into  the  papers,  probably  in 
garbled  versions.  It  would  reflect  no  credit  on 
any  one  and  the  best  check  to  the  discussion 
of  the  unfortunate  affair  would  be  the  announce- 
ment of  his  engagement.  The  second  motive  for 
publishing  the  engagement  was  that  it  would 
make  the  marriage  a  little  more  certain. 

The  word  of  Philip  de  Selden  had  been  his 
bond  and  his  only  daughter  was  not  unlike  him. 

79 


8o  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

When  she  said  she  would  do  a  thing  she  did  it, 
even  to  her  own  hurt.  Now  that  he  had  proposed 
to  her  and  she  had  accepted  him  he  was  resolutely 
determined  to  have  her  for  his  wife. 

"Good-morning,  gentlemen,"  he  said  as  the  re- 
porters followed  him  into  his  private  office.  "I 
presume  you  have  some  questions  to  ask  me,  but 
before  you  do  I  have  an  announcement  to  make." 

"We're  all  attention,  Mr.  Warburton, "  said 
the  oldest  reporter,  who  had  interviewed  him 
oftenest  and  knew  him  best,  as  note  books  and 
pencils  came  out. 

"You  may  announce  my  engagement  to  Miss 
Christianna  de  Selden,  daughter  of  the  late 
Philip  de  Selden." 

John  Warburton  had  never  been  a  ladies' 
man  but  he  had  taken  his  place  in  society.  His 
New  York  home,  his  Newport  cottage,  his  hunting 
lodge,  his  yacht,  had  been  open  freely  and  gener- 
ously to  Mrs.  de  Selden  and  her  daughter  and 
their  friends.  Indeed  it  was  for  that  daughter 
that  he  had  acquired  all  these  things.  And  War- 
burton  had  not  withdrawn  himself  from  these 
various  gaieties,  but  no  woman's  name  had  ever 
been'  connected  with  his.  Gossipers  had  specu- 
lated as  to  why  he  had  not  married  and  whether 
he  ever  would,  but  idly.  This  was  a  social  an- 
nouncement of  the  first  importance. 

"Beg  pardon,  Mr.  Warburton,"  began  the' 
oldest  reporter,  "but  isn't  Miss  de  Selden  your 
ward?" 


The  Voice  of  Society  81 

"She  was.  But  Miss  de  Selden  is  of  age  and 
she  has  done  me  the  honour  to  accept  my  hand." 

"Pretty  big  hand,"  said  a  young  reporter, 
meaning  no  offence. 

"It  has  been  a  heavy  one,"  admitted  War- 
burton,  "on  some  men.  I  trust  it  will  touch 
lightly  every  woman  and  especially  my  wife- 
to-be." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  oldest  reporter  shooting 
a  frowning  glance  at  his  bold  youthful  confrere. 
"May  we  ask  when  the  marriage  will  take  place?" 

"The  last  of  October,  Thursday  the  thirty-first, 
to  be  exact." 

"And  where?" 

"No  arrangements  have  been  made.  They 
will  be  at  the  pleasure  of  Miss  de  Selden." 

"Have  you  made  any  plans  as  to  the  wedding 
journey  or ?" 

"No  plans  of  any  sort  except  to  try  to  make 
Miss  de  Selden  as  happy  as  she  deserves  and  as 
little  conscious  of  her  gracious  condescension  as 
possible.  You  need  ask  me  no  more  questions 
about  this,  gentlemen.  I  have  given  you  all  the 
information  that  is  necessary." 

"Thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Warburton, " 
said  the  oldest  reporter.  "Now  if  you  will  give 
us  your  views  about  the  financial  situation  in 
Europe  we  will  be  very  much  obliged  to  you." 

And  that  being  no  concern  of  the  readers  of 
this  story  they  are  introduced  to  Chrissey  de 
Selden's  morning-room  and  Miss  Rose  Tayloe. 
o 


82  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Rose  Tayloe  was  the  antithesis  of  Chrissey  de 
Selden  in  everything  except  sweetness  and  light. 
She  was  tall,  blonde,  and  blue-eyed.  When  the 
little  Duke  was  with  her  he  availed  himself  of 
every  modicum  of  height  in  his  endeavour  to 
stand  level  with  her  and  even  then  he  did  not 
quite  reach. 

Rose  Tayloe  was  as  impetuous  and  enthusiastic 
as  Chrissey  de  Selden  was  quiet  and  composed. 
She  burst  into  the  room  like  a  whirlwind,  caught  the 
girl  in  her  strong  young  arms,  and  fairly  lifted  her 
in  the  air  for  a  moment.  Her  first  words  showed 
how  completely  she  misunderstood  the  situation. 

"My  dear  Chris,"  she  cried  in  her  enthusiastic 
way,  "it's  the  most  romantic  thing  on  earth" — • 
which  it  certainly  was  not — "you  deceitful  thing. 
I  never  dreamed  of  it" — and  no  one  had — "John 
Warburton  of  all  persons.  I'd  as  soon  think  of 
marrying  an  ice-berg  or  a  granite  mountain," 
she  ran  on.  "The  poor  little  Duke  is  heart- 
broken. But  do  you  know  what  he  said  when  he 
left  me  yesterday?  That  I  had  comforted  him 
greatly  and  I  believe  I  did.  If  he  were  only 
an  inch  or  two  higher,  but  a  Duke's  title  does  lift 
a  man  up." 

Here  Rose  Tayloe  stopped  and  blushed. 

"I  believe,"  said  Chrissey  de  Selden  quickly, — • 
was  it  because  of  an  anxiety  to  avoid  the  discussion 
of  her  own  affairs? — "that  you  and  he  will  hit  it  off 
splendidly.  You  are  better  fitted  for  him  than  I. 
You  are  blonde,  he  is  dark." 


The  Voice  of  Society  83 

"Yes,  of  course,  but  I  don't  know  whether  I 
want  -the  Duke  or  not,"  ran  on  the  vivacious 
Miss  Tayloe.  "There  is  some  excitement  in 
capturing  him.  He  is  coming  around  this  after- 
noon and  we  are  motoring  to  the  country  club 
in  the  car.  But  tell  me  about  yourself.  The 
Duke  is  nothing  but  a  possibility,  while  Warbur- 
ton  is  an  actuality.  Are  you  madly  in  love  with 
him?" 

"Passionately,"  said  Chrissey  de  Selden  as 
coolly  as  John  Warburton  himself  might  have 
answered. 

"Chris,"  said  Rose,  dropping  down  into  a  seat 
and  staring  up  into  the  face  of  the  other,  "you 
don't  mean  that  you — " 

There  was  dubiety  enough  in  her  voice  to  show 
that  she  fully  understood  the  meaning  of  her 
friend's  words.  Her  mother  had  asked  Chrissey 
de  Selden  that  question  and  now  Rose  Tayloe 
and  although  she  did  not  know  it  both  the  Duke 
and  Neyland  had  put  the  same  question  to 
Warburton.  The  fact  that  everybody  asked  that 
was  not  without  significance. 

"Surely,"  continued  Rose,  "you  would  not 
marry  him  without  loving  him.  I  know  he  is 
wealthy  and  great  and — but " 

"Why  should  I  marry  him  at  all  if  I  did  not 
love  him?" 

"But  Chris,  how  can  you?  He  is  so  much 
older  than  you  and  so  cold  and  so  reserved.  Some- 
times he  makes  me  shudder.  The  more  frivolous 


84  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

I  am,  the  more  glacial  he  becomes.  I've  tried 
to  flirt  with  him  myself." 

"Is  there  any  one  you  haven't  tried  to  flirt  with?" 

"Not  many,"  laughed  the  other  girl,  "but  I 
gave  it  up.  You  might  as  well  flirt  with  a  bronze 
statue.  They  are  warm  in  colour  at  any  rate." 

"Some  of  them  are  green." 

"Yes,  but  whatever  John  Warburton  is,  he  is 
not  green." 

"He  is  about  love  making." 

"Chris,  you  don't  mean — didn't  he  ever ?" 

"He  never  did." 

"But  he  will.     Have  you  thought ? " 

"Of  course  I  have.  He  had  kissed  me  many 
times  as  his  ward  but  since  I  came  out — well 
what  are  you  looking  so  strangely  at  me  for?" 
went  on  the  betrothed.  "Why  should  he  not 
kiss  me?  I  am  engaged  to  him.  I  shall  be  his 
wife." 

"There  is  no  reason  on  earth  why  he  should 
not,  of  course,  but  that  he  has  not  does  seem 
strange.  Why  lots  of  men  have " 

"I  know  what  you  mean,  Rose,  but  I  am  differ- 
ent. I  like  the  way  Mr.  Warburton  has  treated 


me." 


"And  didn't  he  offer  even  to  take  you  in  his 
arms  when  you  said,  yes?" 

"  It  was  on  the  bridge  of  the  Acquitania  yesterday 
coming  into  New  York.  I  think  he  laid  his  hand 
on  mine  and  that  was  all." 

"Well,  he  is  a  strange  lover.     Why  the  Duke 


The  Voice  of  Society  85 

kissed  my  hand  last  night  when  he  bade  me  good 
night  in  a  way  that " 

"Yes,  but  Mr.  Warburton  is  not  in  the  least 
like  the  Duke." 

"Or  like  Dick  Neyland,"  said  Rose. 

"No,  he  isn't  at  all  like  Mr.  Neyland.  Thank 
God  for  that!" 

"Chris,  tell  me,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  night 
at  Sorrento  when  he — you  know — might  not 
Dick  Neyland " 

"Never!  I  wouldn't  have  him  if  he  were  the 
last  man  on  earth." 

"But  he's  so  young  and  handsome  and  dashing 
and  wicked,  you  know.  Why  I  think  that  duel 
between  him  and  the  Duke  was  the  most  romantic 
thing  I  ever  heard  of.  The  Duke  is  the  bravest 
of  men.  He  says  if  Dick  had  stood  off  and  fought 
him  he  would  have  killed  him,  but  no  one  could 
expect  such  a  bull-like  rush.  Dick  must  have 
been  frantic  with  love  for  you,  and  the  Duke 
too." 

"I  give  the  Duke  credit  for  being  enough  of 
a  gentleman  to  resent  an  insult  to  any  woman. 
Just  let  some  one  insult  you  and  you'll  see  if  he 
doesn't  do  as  much  for  you,  Rose." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so." 

"John  Warburton  would  never  fight  a  duel 
for  any  one,  he'd  just  pick  his  enemy  up  in  his 
big  hands  and  crush  him." 

"Who  were  the  Warburtons  anyway?"  asked 
Rose  changing  her  tack.  "You  know  we  Virginia 


86  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Tayloes  are  death  on  family.  I  know  about 
yours  but  what  about  his?" 

"I  know  little  about  his  family.  He  was  a 
protege  of  my  father's." 

"And  he  was  your  guardian  and  now  he  is 
going  to  be  your  husband." 

"Now  my  husband." 

"Well,  I  am  sure  you  will  be  very  happy  if  he 
is  the  man  you  want  to  marry.  At  least  he  is  a 
gentleman,  whatever  his  family,  and  he  can  be 
very  agreeable  under  that  icy  mask  of  his,  even  if 
he  wouldn't  flirt  with  me.  When  is  the  wedding 
to  be?" 

"Thursday,  the  last  of  October,  and  you  are 
to  be  maid  of  honour." 

"Where  will  you  have  it?" 

"At  St.  Thomas's,  of  course.  The  Bishop  and 
the  Rector  will  officiate." 

"Will  it  be  a  great  wedding?" 

"I  suppose  it  will  have  to  be." 

' '  How  exciting ! ' '  cried  Rose.  ' '  Maid  of  honour ! 
I  wonder  who  will  be  the  best  man?" 

"How  would  the  Duke  suit?" 

"Splendidly,"  laughed  Rose. 

"Well,  if  you  get  him  sufficiently  consoled 
so  that  he  can  go  through  the  ceremony  without 
challenging  any  one  I  guess  he  will  do." 

"Wouldn't  it  be  fun  if  we  could  have  Dick 
Neyland?" 

"Rose,"  said  the  other  girl  quickly  and  per- 
emptorily, "no  one  knows  anything  about  that 


The  Voice  of  Society  87 

affair  except  you  and  the  Duke  and  Mr.  Warbur- 
ton.  I  do  not  want  it  to  be  known  if  it  is  possible. 
Of  course  there  are  suspicions  but  the  facts  must 
be  kept  quiet.  I  wouldn't  have  Mr.  Neyland 
at  my  wedding  in  any  capacity  whatsoever.  I 
hate,  I  loathe,  I  abominate  the  man.  If  you  had 
seen  him  as  I  you  would  understand.  I'm  tired  of 
society  anyway.  It's  too  foolish  and " 

"Do  you  think  you  can  get  out  of  it  by  marrying 
Mr.  Warburton  and  his  millions?" 

"I  don't  know.  At  least  I  shall  have  a  strong 
man  to  look  out  for  me.  I  shall  be  free  to  attempt 
a  lot  of  things  I  haven't  been  able  to  try.  I  want 
to  do  something  for '  humanity.  I  want  to  be 
something  worth  while  in  this  world.  No  one  on 
earth  could  help  me  to  that  as  Mr.  Warburton." 

Rose  Tayloe  was  sophisticated  but  not  suffici- 
ently philosophic  to  realize  that  disappointment 
in  love  is  more  often  than  not  back  of  the  desire  to 
do  something  for  humanity  and  that  it  is  almost 
invariably  the  cause  for  which  society,  loved 
heretofore,  is  held  so  lightly  and  contemptuously. 

"So  far  as  loving  John  Warburton  is  concerned," 
said  Chrissey  coming  back  to  the  main  point  at 
issue  with  her  usual  directness,  "I  suppose  I  do 
not  love  him  as  I  fancied  I  should  love  the  man 
I  married.  But  there  is  no  man  on  earth  for 
whom  I  have  greater  respect  or  admiration,  and 
there  is  no  one  to  whom  I  would  rather  trust 
myself  and  my  future.  He  is  the  soul  of  honour 
and  the  soul  of  dignity  and " 


88  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Yes,  I  know,"  said  Rose,  "and  of  course  you 
are  very  wise  and  all  that  but  still  maybe  one 
would  be  happier  with  less  exalted  virtue  and 
more  love." 

"I  don't  know,  but  at  any  rate  I'm  going  to 
try  with  Mr.  Warburton  and  there's  nothing 
more  to  be  said  about  it." 

"Except  to  wish  you  every  happiness,"  inter- 
rupted Rose,  again  taking  Chrissey  to  her  heart 
in  a  way  that  John  Warburton  would  never  have 
presumed  to  do. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  PLEA  OF  THE  BREAKING 

So  great  an  alliance — the  word  is  used  advisedly 
of  this  marriage — is  not  to  be  brought  about 
without  attention  to  a  multitude  of  details. 
John  Warburton's  mind  was  highly  executive 
but  in  these  matters  he  found  himself  at  a  loss. 
It  was  the  girl  and  her  mother  who  planned  the 
approaching  wedding.  Miss  de  Selden  must  have 
a  trousseau  of  a  magnificence  suited  to  her  station 
and  future.  Her  friends,  whose  surprise  had 
not  been  less  than  Rose  Tayloe's,  must  be  given 
opportunity  to  entertain  her. 

Warburton  would  have  preferred  the  simplest 
of  weddings  and  the  girl,  if  she  had  been  marrying 
some  one  else,  might  have  had  the  same  view, 
but  as  it  was  she  plunged  eagerly  into  all  these 
distractions  with  a  sort  of  not  uncommon  madness. 
They  occupied  her  mind  and  tired  her  body  and 
left  her  no  time  for  reflection.  Besides,  it  was 
the  custom  of  the  set  to  which  she  belonged. 
Instead  of  preparing  for  the  holy  estate  of  matri- 
mony with  its  obligations  and  possibilities  with 
quietness  and  dignity  and  reserve,  there  was  a 

89 


90  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

glory,  a  hurry,  an  excitement,  and  a  publicity 
about  it  which  she  at  least  could  hardly  have 
escaped.  The  papers  were  full  of  it.  The  most 
intimately  personal  details  were  seized  upon 
with  avidity  and  exploited  mercilessly,  and  when 
no  details  were  available  the  easy  invention  of 
the  American  newspaper  made  no  difficulty  in 
supplying  them. 

All  this  at  least  served  one  purpose.  An  attempt 
to  start  stories  about  that  night  in  Sorrento  died 
aborning.  No  one  succeeded  in  coupling  Miss  de 
Selden's  name  with  that  of  Mr.  Neyland.  His 
threat  to  do  something  and  to  show  himself  a  man 
was  not  kept.  After  his  downfall  the  night  of  the 
dinner  his  excesses  became  the  talk  of  the  circle 
in  which  he  moved.  Even  Billy  Alton,  at  last 
married  and  consequently  a  little  more  serious- 
minded  than  usual,  remonstrated  with  him,  but 
in  vain.  The  Duke,  too,  sought  him  out  and  tried 
to  help  him,  but  equally  to  no  purpose.  Even  in 
his  degradation  he  made  several  attempts  to  see 
Chrissey  de  Selden.  He  called  at  the  house  several 
times,  he  wrote  to  her,  once  he  came  to  the  side  of 
her  car  as  it  was  checked  by  the  traffic  officer  at 
one  of  the  cross  streets  on  Fifth  Avenue  and  spoke 
to  her.  She  turned  her  head  away  and,  the  clear 
signal  having  been  given  at  the  moment,  she  bade 
her  chauffeur  drive  on.  She  had  been  shocked  at 
his  appearance  on  the  steamer.  She  was  more  than 
shocked  at  his  face  then. 

A  few  days  before  the  wedding  when  she  hap- 


The  Plea  of  the  Breaking          91 

pened  to  have  an  idle  moment  one  afternoon  and 
sat  dreaming  in  her  apartment,  Colonel  Tayloe's 
card  was  brought  to  her.  She  had  always  liked 
that  gallant  old  Virginian  and  she  welcomed  a 
visit  from  him.  Her  position  was  becoming  in- 
creasingly difficult.  In  spite  of  the  mad  hurry  of 
her  life  she  was  beginning  to  realize  that  marriage 
was  more  than  an  alliance.  She  was  not  merely 
taking  John  Warburton's  name  and  the  head 
of  his  table  but  she  was  taking  John  Warburton, 
too;  or  what  perhaps  expressed  it  more  clearly 
he  was  taking  her!  The  reserve  with  which  he 
continued  to  treat  her  could  not  be  maintained 
forever.  She  would  be  his,  body  and — well, 
her  soul  would  be  her  own.  But  would  it?  And 
whenever  she  was  alone  and  had  time  for  thought 
these  considerations  would  obtrude.  Other  women 
had  married  and  had  given  themselves  up  to  men 
without  loving  them,  but  she,  could  she  do  that? 
Was  she  different? 

There  was  no  colour  in  her  cheeks  that  afternoon 
as  she  sat  there,  alone,  guard  down,  mask  off,  and 
for  a  moment  she  looked  as  torn  in  soul  as  Ney- 
land  himself.  Well,  anyway,  brides  in  that  set 
seldom  reached  the  wedding  day  in  the  best 
condition.  The  excitement  of  the  ceremony  itself 
gave  them  a  fictitious  strength  but  there  was 
usually  something  of  a  relapse  after  the  benedic- 
tion. No  one  could  go  the  pace  and  endure  the 
physical,  mental,  and  spiritual  strain  of  these  days 
without  showing  it  as  Chrissey  de  Selden  did. 


92  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Warburton  saw  it,  of  course,  and  so  did  her 
mother.  The  latter  set  it  down  to  the  excitement 
of  the  preparation.  The  former  wondered  if 
there  were  an  added  cause.  Whatever  it  might 
be  he  knew  now,  so  intense  had  been  the  growth 
of  his  love  for  her,  that  he  would  go  through  with 
the  marriage  under  any  circumstances  and  at  any 
risk.  Sometimes  even  her  happiness  was  forgot 
in  his  own  determination  and  desire,  yet  he  never 
betrayed  either.  At  least  that  is  what  he  fancied. 
But  sometimes  the  woman  saw  beneath  the  sur- 
face and  what  she  saw  should  have  warned  her  to 
stop  while  it  was  yet  time.  Well,  as  she  was 
lonely  that  afternoon  she  was  glad  for  Colonel 
Tayloe's  visit. 

"My  dear  girl,"  he  began  solicitously  as  she 
entered  the  drawing-room,  "you  aren't  look- 
ing well.  This  excitement  is  too  much  for 
you." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so.  Thank  heaven  it  will  all 
be  over  next  Thursday!" 

"It  has  been  my  experience  that  excitement 
doesn't  always  end  with  the  wedding." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  Mr.  Warburton  is  so  com- 
posed and  so " 

"Umph,"  said  the  Colonel  reflectively.  "I 
wouldn't  count  too  much  on  that."  He  looked 
carefully  at  her.  "You  are  a  very  attractive 
woman,  my  child,  enough  to  awaken  a  heart 
throb  in  a  statue.  But  I  didn't  come  here  to 
talk  about  that.  I  have  a  difficult  errand  and  I 


The  Plea  of  the  Breaking          93 

confess  I  don't  know  quite  how  to  discharge  it. 
I  want  to  ask  a  favour  of  you." 

"You  couldn't  ask  any  favour  of  me  that  I 
wouldn't  grant,  Colonel." 

"I'm  not  quite  sure  whether  you  ought  to  grant 
this  favour  or  not." 

"Why  ask  it  then?" 

"  I  can't  very  well  help  it.  It  concerns  some  one 
I  have  known  a  long  time  and  to  whom  I  am 
bound  by  many  ties." 

"Surely  it  isn't  Rose." 

"Of  course  not.  What  favour  could  I  ask  for 
Rose?  She  can  ask  for  herself." 

"You  mean?" 

"It's  Dick  Neyland,"  blurted  out  the  Colonel 
desperately. 

"And  what  favour  do  you  ask  for  him?" 

"He  wants  to  see  you." 

"For  what  purpose?" 

"To  apologize.  He  knows  he  acted  abominably 
in  Sorrento.  I  don't  know  what  he  did  but  he 
says  he  can't  live  unless  he  has  your  forgiveness." 

"I  forgive  him.  I  dismiss  him  from  my  mind 
entirely." 

"That  is  not  enough.  He  has  tried  in  vain  to 
see  you.  He  has  called  at  the  house,  he  has 
written  you,  and  even  stopped  your  car  on  the 
street,  I  understand." 

"He  has  done  all  those  things." 

"And  you  have  refused  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  him?" 


94  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I  have  and  I  shall  continue  to  do  so." 

"My  dear  girl,"  said  the  old  Colonel  earnestly, 
"is  it  quite  fair  if  a  man  wants  to  make  amends 
that  he  should  be  given  no  opportunity?" 

"Nothing  he  can  say  can  make  amends." 

"Perhaps  not,  but  he  thinks  so  and  I  think  so, 
too.  As  an  old  friend  of  yours,  as  one  who  knew 
you  from  infancy  and  was  your  father's  friend,  I 
ask  you  as  a  favour  to  me  to  give  him  just  five 
minutes  with  you.  Won't  you  do  it?" 

"Where  is  he?" 

"I  left  him  in  the  reception-room  across  the 
hall.  Please!  It  won't  hurt  you  and  it  will  be 
of  some  benefit  to  him.  If  ever  a  man  was 
going  straight  to  hell  it's  Neyland.  I've  tried 
to  pull  him  up.  We  all  have.  Maybe  if  you 
saw  him  for  a  moment  it  might  help.  Be 
charitable!  Some  day  you  may  need  it  yourself, 
you  know." 

"For  your  sake,  Colonel,  I'll  see  him.  Will  you 
stay?" 

"He  wants  to  see  you  alone." 

"I'm  afraid  to  be  alone  with  him." 

"Is  it  as  bad  as  that?" 

Was  it  as  bad  as  that?  Was  Chrissey  de  Selden 
afraid  of  Richard  Neyland  or  was  she  afraid 
of  herself?  She  could  think  of  John  Warburton 
and  some  of  the  thoughts  in  her  heart  drove  the 
blood  from  her  cheek.  That  Richard  Neyland 
was  there  brought  the  colour  to  her  face.  Was 
there  anything  significant  in  that? 


The  Plea  of  the  Breaking          95 

"Will  you  wait  in  the  reception-room  within 
call?" 

"If  you  wish,"  said  the  Colonel.  "Now  may 
I  bring  him  in?" 

Chrissey  could  not  trust  herself  to  speak.  She 
nodded. 

Presently  Neyland  entered.  He  was  always 
immaculately  clad.  His  personal  habits  did  not 
affect  his  dress,  but  his  face,  his  eyes,  his  shaking 
hands,  his  voice  betrayed  him. 

"Miss  de  Selden,"  he  began  striving  for  control 
as  she  looked  at  him.  "I  had  to  take  this  way. 
You  refused  to  see  me.  You  did  not  answer  my 
letters." 

"I  destroyed  them  unread." 

"You  wouldn't  speak  to  me  on  the  street.  I 
couldn't  live  until  I  had  asked  your  forgiveness. 
My  God,"  he  burst  out,  "I  never  knew  how  I 
loved  you  until  I  had  lost  you!  And  for  such 
a  reason.  Life  has  been  hell  to  me.  There  is 
nothing  I  haven't  tried  to  make  me  forget  you 
and  my  own  shame,  to  make  me  think  of  other 
things  and  now,  now — "  he  stepped  toward  her. 

"Don't  come  near  me,"  said  the  girl  quietly. 
"You  came  too  near  once." 

"Chris,  you  need  not  fear  me.  If  it  would  do 
any  good  I'd  cut  off  the  hand " 

"How  dare  you  refer  to  it?" 

"I  don't  know.  I  don't  know  anything  except 
that  I  must  have  at  least  your  forgiveness.  I 
have  lost  your  affection." 


96  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

And  if  he  had  not  been  so  blind  and  shaken  with 
passionate  agitation  and  remorse  and  unrequited 
love  he  might  have  seen  that  possibly  he  had  not 
lost  all  that. 

"I  must  have  your  forgiveness,"  he  repeated, 
"I  was  mad  that  night." 

"I  had  proof  of  that." 

"You  loved  me  then.  I  could  have  sworn  it. 
I  could  have  had  you  for  my  wife  if  I  could  only 
have  controlled,  if " 

"I  think  we  would  better  end  this  interview — " 
began  the  girl  with  a  coldness  she  did  not  feel. 

She  realized  to  her  horror  that  she  longed  to 
take  the  man  in  her  arms.  He  looked  so  broken, 
so  pitiful. 

"Oh,  for  God's  sake!" 

"It  serves  no  purpose.  You  know  I  am  to  be 
married  to  Mr.  Warburton  next  week.  You 
ask  me  to  forgive  the  insult  you  put  upon  me,  an 
insult  the  more  unbearable  because  I  thought  you 
different,  because  I  cared — then — not  now,"  she 
cried  swiftly  as  he  lifted  his  head. 

"This  marriage,  forgive  me,  do  you  enter  upon 
it  freely?" 

"Is  there  any  power  on  earth  that  could  coerce 
me?"  cried  the  woman.  "Your  question  is 
another  insult." 

"I'm  mad,  quite  mad,  I  can  see  it  all  now. 
I  should  not  have  asked  anything  of  you.  I  can- 
not forget  you  but  at  least  I  can  keep  away  from 
you  and " 


The  Plea  of  the  Breaking          97 

"I  will  forgive  you, "  said  the  woman  suddenly, 
"if  you  show  yourself  worthy." 

"And  you  will  be  friends  with  me.  You  will 
let  me  see  you,  you  will " 

"That  is  impossible.  Our  ways  lie  apart.  The 
whole  city  rings  with  your  evil  doings.  If  you 
will  show  yourself  the  man  I  thought  you  were 
when  I — before  I — you  may  have  my  forgiveness." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  man.  "I  make  no 
promises.  I  do  not  know.  Perhaps  it  is  too  late.'* 

"It  is  never  too  late." 

"And  after  all,  what  is  your  forgiveness  when 
I  lose  you?  Oh,  if  you  had  only  understood 
then!  If  I  hadn't  run  away!  If  I  had  only 
stayed  and  fought  it  out?  If  you  had  taken  me 
when  you " 

"That  is  all  passed,"  said  the  girl,  "we  must 
not  speak  of  it.  I  was  wrong  to  have  acceded 
to  Colonel  Tayloe's  request.  This  interview  is 
terrible  for  both  of  us.  For  your  own  sake  try  to 
be  a  man." 

"I  could  have  done  it  for  you." 

"A  man  who  is  not  a  man  for  his  own  sake 
cannot  be  so  for  a  woman.  I  have  faith  in  you 
in  spite  of  what  has  passed.  You  can  merit 
my  forgiveness,  the  forgiveness  of  all  woman- 
kind whose  purity  and  innocence  you  have  flouted, 
by  a  changed  course.  Your  name  has  become  a 
byword,  a  shame,  and  a  reproach.  As  a  decent 
woman  I  might  have  refused  to  see  you,  but  you 
can  do  differently,  I  am  sure.  I  shall  be  glad  to 

7 


98  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

hear.  Good-bye.  You  must  go.  I  cannot  stand 
any  more. ' ' 

He  fell  on  his  knees,  took  the  skirt  of  her  dress 
in  his  hands,  and  bowed  over  it,  then  struggled  to 
his  feet  and  stumbled  out  of  the  room.  He  did 
not  summon  Colonel  Tayloe  but  plunged  through 
the  door  and  into  the  waiting  taxi  outside.  Chrissey 
de  Selden  sank  down  in  her  chair.  She  dropped 
her  arms  on  the  table  and  buried  her  head  in 
them,  her  body  shaking  with  sobs.  At  last 
Colonel  Tayloe  came  in.  He  laid  his  hand  upon 
her  head. 

"My  poor  child,  was  it  so  terrible?  I  should 
not  have  subjected  you  to  this.  Richard  Neyland 
isn't  worth  these  tears." 

"Such  a  wreck, "  sobbed  the  woman,  "he  might 
have  been  anything.  He  might  even  have  been 
my  husband  for  I " 

"Stop!"  said  the  Colonel.  "Confidences  like 
this  I  cannot  receive.  Speech  is  not  good  for  you 
now.  You  are  going  to  marry  the  finest  man  on 
earth." 

"I  know.     I  know." 

"There  must  be  no  other." 

"There  shall  not  be." 

"As  for  Neyland?" 

"I  said  I  would  forgive  him  if  he  showed  the 
world  that  he  was  worthy." 

"And  he  said?" 

"He  said  he  would  do  it  for  me  and  I  told 
him  that  he  must  do  it  for  the  sake  of  his  manhood. 


The  Plea  of  the  Breaking          99 

I  know  that  no  man  who  fails  so  terribly,  who 
shows  me  such  a  side  to  his  character " 

"We  all  have  two  sides,  my  dear,  and  sometimes 
many.  We  must  not  condemn  a  man  altogether 
for  his  bad  side.  Some  of  poor  Neyland's  weak- 
nesses came  down  from  his  fathers,  not  that  that 
is  an  excuse.  A  man  may  be  born  in  iniquity  and 
in  sin  may  his  mother  conceive  him  as  the  Bible 
says,  but  his  condition  is  not  irremediable.  Every 
man  has  got  to  stand  for  himself." 

"That  is  what  I  told  him." 

"I  hope  it  may  have  some  effect.  There  is 
good  in  Neyland,  lots  of  it.  If  he  could  have 
won  the  love  of  a  woman  like  yourself  he  might 
have " 

"Would  you  give  him  Rose?" 

"Well,er " 

"You  see!  I  am  going  to  marry  John  War- 
burton  who  is,  as  you  say,  a  man  all  through." 

"And  do  you  love  him?"  burst  out  the  Colonel 
suddenly. 

The  old  question!  Before  she  could  answer  he 
apologized. 

"I  have  no  right  to  ask  that.  Of  course  you 
do, "  he  said.  "He  is  a  man  to  make  any  woman 
happy,"  he  went  on,  realizing  that  in  the  ordinary 
explanation  of  the  term  Warburton  could  hardly 
be  described  as  a  lovable  personality. 

"I'm  ashamed  to  have  given  away  like  this," 
said  the  girl  rising,  "but  he  looked  so  ter- 
rible." 


ioo         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I  understand.  I'm  sorry  I  brought  this  trouble 
upon  you." 

"I'm  glad  you  did.  Perhaps  it  may  help  him. 
Do  you  know  you  are  to  give  me  away  next 
Thursday  in  default  of  a  father?" 

"I  will  do  it  quite  happily, "  said  the  old  Colonel 
pleased  with  the  honour,  "and  the  more  willingly 
because  I  know  that  I  could  not  give  you  to  a 
better  man." 

And  still  as  he  went  out  of  the  door  he  sighed 
as  he  thought  of  Richard  Neyland.  That  young 
man  began  that  day  a  battle,  a  campaign  rather, 
which  he  pursued  for  some  time.  In  that  cam- 
paign he  did  not  always  advance.  He  did  not  go 
from  strength  to  strength.  One  success  did  not 
follow  another.  There  were  checks,  halts,  re- 
verses, retrogrades.  He  had  little  to  which  to 
look  forward  at  the  end.  Victory  would  bring 
him  nothing  but  the  restoration  of  his  own  self- 
respect.  He  would  have  given  that  for  one 
woman,  at  least  he  thought  so  in  his  present  mind. 
Yet  because  of  that  one  woman,  forever  lost  to 
him,  he  persevered. 

The  wedding  gifts  to  Chrissey  de  Selden  were 
so  rare,  so  beautiful,  their  value  ran  up  to  such 
countless  thousands  that  by  its  very  simplicity 
one  of  them  attracted  more  attention  than  all 
the  others  that  came  swarming  in  from  all  over 
the  world.  "To  him  who  hath  shall  be  given 
indeed."  This  one  gift  came  anonymously.  At 
least  she  found  no  card.  It  was  in  a  Tiffany  box 


The  Plea  of  the  Breaking        101 

but  the  jewelers  could  tell  them  nothing  save 
that  it  had  been  ordered  by  a  person  whom  they 
could  not  identify.  It  bore  no  mark  of  any  kind. 
It  was  a  rude  bracelet  of  hammered  silver  such  as  a 
barbarian  might  have  worn  in  the  Middle  Ages. 
In  the  silver  band  were  set  thirteen  coloured  stones 
all  of  them  semi-precious  and  of  little  value.  These 
jewels  were  apparently  set  at  random,  at  least  no 
effort  was  made  to  match  them  in  colour  or  size 
or  cutting,  and  yet  the  rude  ornament  aroused 
more  interest  than  the  collar  of  pearls  or  the  tiara 
of  diamonds,  or  the  carcanet  of  rubies  that  were 
displayed  with  the  rest. 

When  it  came  Chrissey  de  Selden  had  slipped 
it  on  her  round  white  arm  and  had  wondered 
curiously  who  sent  it  and  what  it  meant.  And 
everybody  else  wondered  the  same  thing. 

If  she  had  had  more  time,  or  less,  she  might  have 
broken  the  engagement.  She  denied  herself  to 
everybody,  even  to  Warburton,  on  the  night  of 
Ney land's  visit.  That  evening  one  of  the  merry 
functions  arranged  for  the  bridal  party  had  to 
dispense  with  her  presence.  Rose  Tayloe  took 
her  place  and  explained  that  the  bride-to-be  was 
suffering  from  a  severe  headache.  She  did  not 
even  allow  her  mother  to  be  with  her.  She  dis- 
missed her  maid  and  lay  on  the  bed  face  down- 
ward fighting  it  out. 

She  knew  now,  in  spite  of  his  terrible  affront, 
what  he  had  done,  and  what  he  was,  that  she 
loved  Richard  Neyland.  If  the  wedding  had 


102         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

been  set  for  that  night  she  would  have  declined  it. 
If  it  had  been  far  enough  away  for  her  to  have 
allowed  her  feeling  for  Neyland  to  get  the  better 
of  her  she  would  have  declined  it  but  she  did  not 
have  to  make  the  decision  on  the  morrow  and 
there  was  not  time  enough  for  her  to  get  used  to 
the  idea  of  backing  out. 

She  dug  her  hands  into  the  covering  of  the  bed 
as  wounded  men  in  battle  clutch  the  earth  and 
agonize  alone.  She  was  entirely  clear-headed 
in  the  premises.  She  loathed  and  hated  herself 
for  allowing  her  thought  to  incline  to  Neyland. 
She  pictured  Warburton's  qualities,  all  his  excel- 
lencies, all  his  virtues.  They  weighed  as  light 
as  thistle  down  in  the  balance  she  held  between 
the  two  men  and  yet  as  the  long  hours  of  struggle 
wore  away  she  decided  to  go  on  with  her  wedding. 
The  motives  that  urged  her  to  this  conclusion 
were,  perhaps,  too  complex  for  her  recognition. 
She  had  all  the  stubborn  pride  of  the  De  Seldens 
for  one  thing.  She  would  not  stoop  to  Richard 
Neyland.  Gratitude  and  honour  inclined  her  to 
Warburton.  In  her  self -analysis  she  thought 
little  of  him.  His  happiness  did  not  greatly 
enter  into  her  calculations. 

Among  other  things  she  had  the  arrogance  of 
her  family.  Warburton  would  be  amply  rewarded 
by  getting  her  on  any  terms,  she  thought.  She 
was  so  torn  between  the  two  men  that  she  did  not 
think  clearly  of  the  solemn  obligations  of  matri- 
mony. It  was  a  choice  of  ways  that  was  presented 


The  Plea  of  the  Breaking        103 

to  her.  She  instinctively  felt  that  to  turn  to 
Neyland  would  be  to  go  down  while  to  keep  to 
Warburton  would  be  to  go  up.  Her  point  of  view 
was  purely  selfish,  even  if  unconsciously  so.  She 
would  not  deliberately  have  brought  harm  or 
sorrow  to  Warburton  for  the  world.  In  some 
other  mood  she  was  quite  capable  of  sacrificing 
herself  to  him.  Indeed  it  seemed  to  her  at  times 
that  she  was  doing  that  very  thing.  She  did 
not  perceive  that  loving  Neyland  and  marrying 
Warburton  simply  because  she  could  not  bring 
herself  to  marry  Neyland  was  doing  Warburton 
a  frightful  injustice. 

What  was  involved  in  being  a  wife  in  anything 
more  than  name  to  Warburton  did  not  then  appear 
to  her.  He  had  been  so  devoted,  so  self-effacing, 
he  had  shown  such  abnegation  and  restraint, 
that  what  would  have  been  ordinary  apprehension 
was  more  or  less  in  abeyance.  She  knew  more  or 
less  what  she  was  doing  but  it  was  not  thrust 
violently  in  her  face  under  the  circumstances, 
and  she  was  unable  to  think  clearly  and  coherently 
at  best  in  her  growing  agitation. 

She  was  terribly  shaken  by  the  scene  of  the 
afternoon.  Had  the  consciousness  that  he  had 
lost  her  driven  Neyland  further  into  the  depths? 
It  was  a  testimony  at  least  to  her  power  over  him. 
Warburton  would  never  insult  her.  He  would 
never  presume.  She  had  never  seen  the  look 
from  which  she  had  shrunk  on  Neyland's  face  on 
Warburton' s.  She  never  would  see  it,  she  was  sure. 


104         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

She  was  as  good  and  pure  a  girl  as  ever  lived 
and  yet  she  almost  caught  herself  wishing  that 
her  husband-to-be  was  not  so  poised  and  cold. 
If  he  had  snatched  her  rudely  to  him  at  some  time 
and  crushed  her  against  his  breast  and  taken  his 
fill  of  kisses  she  would  have  been  furious  of  course 
and  yet —  Suppose  he  had  laid  his  hand  on  her 
as —  She  writhed  under  these  thoughts.  She 
was  filled  with  shame  and  humiliation  that  she 
had  them,  yet  she  had  them. 

She  rose  after  a  while,  threw  on  the  lights, 
looked  at  herself  in  the  mirror.  She  measured 
herself  by  the  accepted  standards  and  found 
herself  beautiful  even  in  her  grief  and  disarray. 
She  was  worth  any  man's  fighting  for.  Her  breath 
came  quicker.  Her  bosom  rose  and  fell  as  she 
stared.  No  wonder  Richard  Neyland  had — How 
could  Warburton  be  so  insensible?  He  did  not 
deserve 

Convulsively  she  tore  at  the  laces  at  her  breast 
as  if  they  impeded  some  further  expression  of  her 
being.  Then  she  sat  down  and  buried  her  face 
in  her  hands  and  sobbed,  ashamed.  What  had 
her  thoughts  been?  Into  what  wild  current  had 
they  run?  Into  what  abyss  had  they  threatened 
to  plunge  her? 

She  rose  dry-eyed  again,  firmly  resolved  if 
Neyland  brought  such  thoughts  into  her  maidenly 
heart  it  was  well  that  she  was  rid  of  him.  For  her 
soul's  sake  she  would  not  think  of  him  again. 
Warburton  was  quieter,  gentler.  She  ought  to  be 


The  Plea  of  the  Breaking        105 

glad.  He  was  a  haven  of  refuge.  She  must  so 
regard  him.  She  would  go  on  with  the  marriage. 
He  was  scarcely  a  man  to  her  in  his  restraint. 
She  would  be  safe.  These  terrible  passions 
would  cease  to  tear  her.  Tortured  through  many 
an  hour  she  fell  asleep. 


BOOK  II 
WEDDED 


107 


CHAPTER  X 

AFTERNOON 

IT  was  a  white  and  trembling  woman  who 
walked  unsteadily  up  the  aisle  of  St.  Thomas's 
Church  on  the  last  day  of  October.  The  church 
was  crowded  to  the  doors  and  there  was  almost  a 
riot  because  of  the  multitude  in  the  streets.  She 
passed  through  it  all  as  in  a  dream.  She  caught 
herself  glancing  aside  beneath  her  veil  as  she 
walked  with  bowed  head,  seeking —  Whom? 
Was  Neyland  there? 

Then  she  suddenly  was  aware  of  John  War- 
burton,  straighter,  grimmer,  sterner  than  ever, 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  chancel  steps,  a  great 
contrast  to  the  little  Duke,  who  had  accepted  the 
inevitable  with  a  good  grace  and  was  looking  with 
much  appreciation  at  Rose  Tayloe,  a  glorious  and 
splendid  figure  walking  alone  before  the  bride. 
The  mist  in  Chrissey  de  Selden's  eyes  and  the 
pain  in  her  heart  made  Warburton  look  the 
more  masterful  to  her.  Perhaps  after  all  it  would 
have  been  better  if —  No,  it  was  too  late. 

She  went  through  the  service  mechanically, 
scarcely  comprehending  the  words  that  were 

109 


no         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

said.  The  hand  of  the  Bishop  on  her  head  in 
benediction  seemed  to  weigh  her  down.  She  could 
never  rise,  she  thought.  It  was  Warburton  who 
lifted  her  up.  For  the  first  time  she  shivered 
under  his  touch.  She  began  to  realize  what  she 
had  done  as  she  turned  and  faced  the  great  smiling 
congregation  while  the  notes  of  the  wedding  march 
pealed  over  her  head.  The  realization  affrighted 
her.  She  grew  a  little  faint.  Was  it  from  the 
fragrance  of  the  flowers  or  the  violence  of  her 
emotions? 

Warburton  steadied  her.  She  wondered  vaguely 
how  she  looked.  She  flushed  a  little  under  his 
searching  glance  and  then  she  forced  her  lips  to 
smile  and  held  her  head  high  as  she  walked  down 
the  aisle.  The  cool  breeze  of  the  October  day — 
how  bright  it  was,  it  would  have  been  more  in 
keeping  if  it  had  rained — brought  a  little  added 
colour  to  her  cheeks. 

Warburton  put  her  in  the  car  and  got  in  after 
her.  She  was  alone  with  him,  yet  through  the 
windows  she  could  see  the  crowds  and  be  seen 
by  them.  As  he  had  done  on  the  great  ship  he 
only  laid  his  hand  over  her  hand.  His  fingers 
clasped  around  hers  firmly,  somehow  differently. 
He  was  taking  his  own.  Again  a  more  vivid 
realization  of  the  fact  that  she  was  lost  to  herself 
beyond  recall  came  to  her.  She  was  his.  She 
looked  suddenly,  fearfully,  at  this  man  whose 
features  might  have  been  carved  out  of  stone, 
only  no  stone  image  ever  had  eyes  that  blazed 


Afternoon  in 

like  his.  She  was  afraid,  horribly  afraid,  yet 
she  did  not  withdraw  her  hand. 

She  had  entered  into  all  the  festivities  incident 
to  the  wedding — the  congratulations,  the  railleries, 
the  breakfast — with  feverish  gaiety.  She  was 
glad  for  every  one  of  them.  She  would  fain  have 
had  them  last  forever.  Her  mother  had  to  force 
her  away  from  the  table  to  doff  her  bridal  finery 
and  make  ready  for  the  wedding  journey,  which 
was  to  be  a  short  one.  A  ride  through  the  wonder- 
ful Ramapo  hills  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  where 
John  Warburton  had  built  himself  a  bachelor 
lodge,  to  be  a  bachelor  lodge  no  longer,  over- 
looking the  valley  of  the  Hudson.  He  had  been 
accustomed  to  go  there  sometimes  for  rest  and 
freedom  from  interruption.  He  had  suggested 
that  place  and  she  had  acquiesced.  Why  not? 
One  place  was  as  good  as  another  since  it  had  to 
be  somewhere. 

The  merrymaking  was  over  at  last  and  they 
were  in  the  car  together  again.  At  the  last  mo- 
ment she  had  declined  the  limousine  and  had 
asked  for  the  touring  car.  Once  again  Warburton 
sought  to  take  her  hand.  This  time  she  had 
impulsively  withdrawn  it.  He  had  said  nothing, 
but  she  knew  what  he  felt  and  after  a  time  she 
reached  over  and  put  her  gloved  hand  upon  his 
own.  He  made  no  effort  to  take  it  but  he  did 
not  move  to  disturb  it.  His  eyes  showed  his 
gratitude.  They  said  little  to  each  other.  What 
conversation  there  was  he  initiated,  and  that  was 


ii2         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

not  much  save  to  assure  her  that  he  knew  how 
blessed  he  had  been,  how  fortunate  that  day 
had  made  him,  to  swear  to  her  that  at  any  sacrifice 
he  would  assure  her  happiness,  that  she  should 
be  first  with  him  in  everything  and  always,  that 
everything  he  could  do  he  would  do  and  if  he  had 
not  wit  to  divine  what  she  wished  she  had  only 
to  indicate  it. 

Unusually  quiet,  unusually  gentle,  was  stern 
John  Warburton  in  that  long  ride.  After  a  time 
she  leaned  back  in  the  luxurious  car,  laid  her 
head  against  the  cushions,  and  went  to  sleep,  still 
with  her  hand  resting  upon  that  of  her  husband. 
For  her  to  have  placed  it  there  indicated  an  iron 
resolution,  the  power  of  which  he  could  not  dream. 
Yet  it  was  characteristic  that  she  went  to  sleep 
with  him  there.  She  trusted  him  like  a  child. 
Indeed  she  still  looked  upon  him  more  with  the 
eyes  of  a  child  than  of  a  wife.  Strange  condition 
for  one  so  lately  wedded. 

Warburton  knew  how  tired  she  was.  Something 
of  the  fire  through  which  she  had  passed  had  been 
burned  into  her  and  he  saw  scars,  as  it  were,  on  her 
face.  He  took  oath  before  heaven  that  he  would 
deal  gently  with  this  girl  who  had  been  committed 
to  him  as  a  child.  He  would  do  it  because  he 
loved  her,  and  because  of  what  he  owed  to  the 
girl's  father.  There  must  have  been  good  stuff 
in  that  mother,  if  such  she  were,  whom  they  found 
face  downward  in  the  icy  river.  There  must  have 
been  something  of  value  in  that  unknown  father, 


Afternoon  1 13 

wherever  he  might  be,  that  had  laid  the  founda- 
tion upon  which  Warburton  with  Philip  de  Selden 
to  guide  him  had  builded  his  character.  He  had 
often  thought  harshly  of  them  but  in  that  long 
ride  under  the  trees,  beginning  to  show  autumn's 
glorious  colours,  and  over  the  hills  and  far  away, 
his  thoughts  were  a  little  more  kind.  He  could 
understand  what  love  was,  to  what  it  might  lead 
men  at  least — and  women ! 

If  he  had  followed  his  inclination  he  would  have 
gone  down  on  his  knees  in  the  car  to  that  small 
and  slender  figure.  He  would  have  lifted  her 
up  in  his  arms  as  a  child,  he  would  have  gathered 
her  to  his  heart  if  he  had  permitted  himself  that 
happiness.  But  he  did  not.  In  her  sleep  she 
was  sacred.  Yet  he  was  a  man  with  all  a  man's 
emotions  and  passions  and  he  hungered  for  the 
sound  of  her  voice,  the  look  in  her  eyes,  the  touch 
of  her  lips.  He  recalled  that  he  had  never  kissed 
her  lips  in  all  his  life  as  a  lover.  Now  it  was 
different.  The  privilege  of  a  lover  might  have 
been  his  before,  the  privilege  of  a  husband  must 
be  his  now.  Presently!  He  was  glad  he  had 
waited. 

The  car  stopped.  He  had  forgotten  the  journey 
looking  at  her,  and  the  stoppage  awakened  her. 

"We  are  home, "  he  said. 

The  words  struck  her  like  a  blow.  Home  was 
where  her  mother  was,  where  she  had  spent  her 
bright  young  womanhood.  It  was  not  here  in 
this  rough  lodge  on  the  mountain  top.  The 


ii4         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

oldest  servants,  whom  she  had  known  for  years, 
who  had  been  sent  up  for  the  occasion,  received 
her  at  the  door.  A  huge  fire  burned  in  the  broad 
stone  chimney  in  the  great  living  room.  It  was 
warm.  It  was  comfortable.  Yes,  it  was  even 
inviting.  But  it  was  with  a  growing  agitation 
that  she  stepped  within. 

Warbur.ton  did  not  offer  to  help  her  with  her 
wraps  as  another  lover  might  have  done,  not 
because  he  did  not  wish  to  but  he  had  grown 
strangely  diffident.  Now  that  he  could  surely 
do  what  he  liked  with  her,  something  held  him 
back.  It  was  the  servants  who  cared  for  her. 

"Will  you  go  to  your  room  before  we  have 
dinner?"  he  asked.  "You  will  find  it  at  the  head 
of  the  staircase.  Mine  is  just  across  the  hall." 

It  was  a  sort  of  a  respite.  She  had  grown  more 
and  more  nervous  and  excited  and  apprehensive 
and  so  she  went  gladly.  He  had  furnished  the 
room  with  every  luxury  for  her,  taking  out  of  it 
the  simpler  things  which  had  been  provided  for 
the  men  who  had  hitherto  been  his  guests.  His 
very  thoughtfulness  increased  her  perturbation. 
She  looked  at  the  bed  and  stumbled  back  against 
the  wall.  She  bit  her  lip.  This  would  never  do. 
She  must  go  on.  She  completed  her  toilet  and 
turned  to  go  down-stairs.  She  met  him  at  the 
door.  He,  too  had  changed  his  dress  and  was 
looking  in. 

"Do  you  like  it?"  he  asked. 

"It's  perfect." 


Afternoon  115 

Indeed  it  was,  a  room  for  a  bride,  delicate, 
dainty,  and  virginal. 

"  Let  us  go  down-stairs  and  break  bread  together, 
Christianna, "  he  said  quietly. 

Always  Christianna,  never  Chrissey  or  Chris! 
And  then  be  put  his  arm  around  her  gently  and 
before  she  realized  it  he  kissed  her  on  the  lips. 

"My  wife,"  he  whispered.  "Great  God,  that 
you  should  come  to  me!" 

"Let  us  go, "  said  the  woman,  her  voice  breaking 
a  little. 

She  had  not  given  him  back  the  kiss  and  he 
had  not  noticed.  What  had  come  over  him? 
The  touch  of  her  lips  had  so  stirred  the  deeps  of 
his  soul  that  he  noticed  nothing.  The  deeps  of 
her  soul  were  stirred  too,  but  in  a  different  way. 
She  made  a  pretence  at  eating  and  drinking. 
She  replied  to  his  conversation  as  best  she  could 
but  she  was  not  inclined  to  talk  and  little  silences 
fell  between  them. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  Warburton  as  they 
finally  passed  into  the  big  room  and  stood  before 
the  fire,  "I  don't  mind  your  being  silent.  It's 
enough  for  me  just  to  look  at  you.  I  am  a  man 
of  few  words." 

"And  of  great  thoughts,"  she  said,  trying 
desperately  not  to  be  too  still. 

"I  have  great  thoughts  when  I  look  at  you, 
Christianna.  Do  you  know  you  are  the  first 
woman  who  has  ever  been  in  this  lodge  and  I 
think  I  shall  never  let  a  man  or  other  women 


n6         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

come  into  it  again.  It  shall  be  sacred  to  you  and 
to  me.  Let  us  sit  before  the  fire." 

She  was  so  tired  she  willingly  acceded  to  his 
suggestion. 

"Tell  me  about  yourself,"  said  the  girl  as  she 
sat  down,  Warburton  standing  by  the  mantel 
looking  upon  her,  his  favourite 'position.  Never 
afterward  could  she  see  a  man  stand  by  a  mantel 
or  fireplace  and  look  at  her  without  thinking  of 
him.  The  light  was  in  her  eyes.  His  face  was 
in  the  shadow.  She  could  not  see  clearly  what 
his  face  expressed.  She  scarcely  dared  to  look. 
She  was  afraid  of  what  might  be  there. 

He  could  talk  if  he  wished  to,  if  there  were 
inspiration  enough,  and  he  had  it  that  night. 
He  told  her  of  his  boyish  life,  not  sparing  his  shame 
when  he  found  out  how  he  had  come  to  be.  He 
told  her  of  his  ambitions,  of  his  determination  to 
succeed,  to  make  his  nondescript  name  respected 
and  honoured,  to  become  a  power,  to  be  courted 
and  feared  and  counted  upon  in  the  world.  He 
had  done  it  for  the  salving  of  his  pride,  for  his 
own  self-respect  at  first,  and  then  when  she  came 
back  from  school  he  had  dreamed  dreams  and  had 
seen  visions  of  which  she  was  the  centre  and  he 
had  begun  to  work  for  her  while  he  waited  without 
hope.  He  poured  out  his  soul  to  her  in  a  naked 
revelation  of  himself  that  moved  her  to  admiration 
if  not  to  love. 

"Now,"  said  the  man  at  last,  "all  that  I  have 
achieved  in  the  past  is  as  nothing  to  what  I  have 


Afternoon  117 

achieved  today.  I  have  won  you,  Christianna, 
and  all  that  I  shall  do  in  the  future  will  be  for  you, 
Christianna,  my  wife." 

It  was  still  early,  but  night  had  long  since  fallen. 
The  blinds  were  drawn.  They  were  alone.  As 
he  said  these  last  words  he  stepped  nearer  to  her. 
She  rose  to  her  feet  suddenly. 

"I'm  very  tired,"  she  said  a  little  pitifully. 
"I  must  go  to  bed." 

"Of  course, "  he  said.  "I  should  not  have  kept 
you  up  so  long  talking  about  myself.  You  know 
the  room.  I  shall  follow  you  presently." 

She  was  afraid  he  would  kiss  her  again,  but  he 
only  bowed  over  her  hand.  He  was  not  a  very 
graceful  man,  but  he  somehow  mastered  that  art, 
for  not  the  most  finished  courtier  could  have  done 
it  better.  She  acknowledged  that  with  a  singular 
detachment  in  her  agitation  and  then  with  leaden 
feet  she  mounted  the  stair. 


CHAPTER  XI 

NIGHT 

SHE  had  desired  no  maid.  The  style  prevailing 
at  the  moment  made  it  possible  for  her  to  take  off 
her  dress  without  assistance.  She  stood  in  the 
room  hesitant,  listening.  In  the  room  below 
she  could  hear  Warburton  walking  to  and  fro 
more  rapidly  than  was  his  wont.  He  was  im- 
patient. What  must  be,  must  be.  Her  trembling 
hand  went  to  her  throbbing  throat.  With  nervous 
fingers  she  unhooked  her  waist  and  then 

Downstairs  Warburton  walked  and  listened. 
He  heard  a  few  faint  footfalls  above  him  from 
time  to  time  and  then  silence.  He  waited  a  little 
while,  ages  it  seemed  to  him,  and  then  he  put  his 
foot  upon  the  stair.  She  was  only  half  undressed, 
and  the  more  beautiful  in  her  disarray,  when  she 
heard  that  footfall  on  the  stair.  Warburton 
walked  softly  and  slowly  as  if  oppressed  by  some 
burden  he  had  to  carry  up  the  stairs,  yet  his 
footsteps  sounded  like  the  crack  of  doom  to  the 
girl. 

Gathering  a  loose  wrapper  about  her,  her  hand 
drawing  it  across  her  breast,  she  stepped  toward 

118 


Night  119 

the  door.  There  was  a  key  in  the  lock.  Her 
hand  went  out  to  it.  Then  she  stopped.  What 
right  had  she?  In  that  moment  she  knew  what 
she  had  done.  She  realized  the  price  she  had  to 
pay.  She  never  loved  Neyland  as  she  loved 
him  then.  Had  he  insulted  her?  Why,  she 
had  been  a  fool.  No  familiarity  that  he  could 
offer  her  was  like  this. 

The  footsteps  crossed  the  hall.  They  stopped 
before  the  door.  She  was  his.  He  was  coming 
to  take  her.  Great  God!  was  there  no  recourse? 
His  hand  was  on  the  knob.  She  felt  it  turn. 
She  waited  breathlessly,  mad  with  terror,  as  he 
opened  the  door. 

The  lights  were  full  on  in  the  room.  She  had 
refrained  from  turning  them  down,  deliberately. 
There  was  invitation,  suggestion,  in  soft  light  that 
was  not  in  brilliance.  He  saw  her  clearly  as  he  had 
never  seen  her  before,  as  no  man  had  ever  seen 
her  before.  His  eyes  lighted.  Yes  there  was 
something  in  them.  It  was  not  exactly  what 
she  had  seen  in  Neyland' s  eyes.  It  was  a  nobler 
feeling,  but  there  was  something  in  common.  He 
stepped  toward  her  with  outstretched  hands,  his 
lip  quivering,  his  heart  beating,  his  face  flushing, 
paling. 

"My  wife, "  he  said,  "my  wife!"  his  voice  low 
and  passionate,  and  then  she  shrieked  aloud. 

"Oh,  God!"  she  cried.  "Don't  come  here!  I 
can't — I  didn't  understand — go  back — you  say 
you  love  me — give  me  a  chance — I " 


120         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

The  man  stopped  as  if  petrified,  rooted  to  the 
spot.  His  iron  self-control  was  gone.  He  shook 
and  trembled  as  Neyland  in  his  weakest  moment 
might  have  done. 

"  Christianna, "  he  began  hoarsely,  his  house  of 
cards  falling  about  him,  ''don't  you  understand, 
aren't  you  my  wife,  don't  you  love  me?" 

And  it  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  asked  her 
that.  Why  had  he  waited?  Whatever  reply 
he  feared,  it  was  not  that  which  he  received,  for 
which  he  was  utterly  unprepared. 

"I  think  I  hate  you!"  answered  the  girl  hysteri- 
cally. "I  don't  know  why  I  did  it !  If  you — take 
me — now — you  will  kill  me!  As  you  are  strong 
— have  mercy — I  didn't  know!" 

Her  voice  rose  until  it  was  a  scream.  Suddenly 
her  hands  released  their  hold  on  the  garments 
she  had  gathered  so  hastily  about  her.  They  fell 
away.  Scarcely  realizing  that  or  anything  but 
that  she  was  a  prisoner,  a  slave,  a  suppliant,  she 
sank  to  her  knees  and  lifted  her  hands  toward 
him.  In  her  abandonment  and  in  her  revelation 
she  was  more  beautiful  than  ever. 

John  Warburton  looked  down  at  her.  The  cup 
of  happiness  had  been  dashed  from  his  lips  and 
the  bitter  cup  of  trembling  had  been  proffered 
by  the  hands  he  loved  in  the  very  irony  of  fate, 
and  he  must  drink  of  it.  He  looked  away.  He 
had  to  look  away  to  command  himself.  There 
must  have  been  gentle  blood  in  that  child  of  shame. 
He  showed  it  in  that  hour.  What  would  Neyland 


Night  121 

have  done?  When  he  looked  back  the  girl  was 
still  at  his  feet,  her  head  bowed  in  her  hands  until 
it  almost  touched  the  floor  where  he  stood.  He 
could  see  the  lovely  curves  of  her  neck  and  shoul- 
ders in  the  bridal  lace  and  linen  that  she  had  not 
yet  put  off. 

" Christianna, "  he  said,  "I  will  not  touch  you. 
I'm  going.  Your  happiness  alone  is  my  only 
desire.  I  do  not  understand.  But  I  would  not 
take  what  you  would  withhold.  Perhaps  some 
day — oh,  God!"  he  burst  out  and  turned  away. 
"Good-night,"  he  added  at  last  as  if  ashamed  for 
having  given  way. 

She  looked  up  to  see  him  go  through  the  door. 
It  was  characteristic  of  him  that  he  closed  it 
gently  behind  him.  She  stared  for  a  moment, 
then  she  rose  to  her  feet  still  looking  at  the  door, 
then  she  ran  to  it  and  turned  the  key.  The  lock 
clicked.  Warburton  standing  outside  with  bowed 
head  heard  it.  She  heard  him  walk  away.  An- 
other impulse  took  her.  She  turned  the  key  back, 
flung  open  the  door,  and  darted  after  him. 

"You  heard  me  lock  the  door!"  she  cried 
hysterically. 

He  nodded. 

"I  shouldn't  have  done  that.  I  had  no  right 
to  lock  it.  I  behaved  like  a  mad  woman.  See, 
here's  the  key.  It's  yours.  You  can  come  in — 
when  you  please,"  she  faltered,  turning  away. 

"Do  you  invite  me  to  come,  Christianna?"  he 
asked  quietly. 


122         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"No,  I  can't  do  that,  but " 

"Until  you  can,  then,"  he  said,  resolutely  turn- 
ing to  his  own  door. 

She  watched  him  enter  and  close  it  behind  him. 
She  went  back  into  her  own  room.  She  tore  off 
the  remains  of  her  wedding  finery  and  robed  her- 
self for  the  night.  She  stood  by  the  bedside  vainly 
attempting  to  kneel  and  pray  as  she  had  been 
accustomed  to  do  from  her  childhood.  She  could 
not.  She  flung  herself  down  on  the  bed  at  last 
and  buried  her  face  in  the  pillow  and  laughed  and 
laughed  and  laughed,  but  soundlessly  lest  he 
should  hear.  By-and-by  sleep  in  mercy  visited  her. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  wall  Warburton  still 
fully  dressed,  knowing  he  could  not  sleep,  opened 
the  window  in  his  own  room  that  overlooked  the 
long  slope  of  the  hills  down  to  the  quiet  river 
beyond,  flowing  slowly  as  a  moving  tide  in  the 
moonlight,  and  sat  down  to  fight  his  own  battle. 
His  soul  was  a  still  deep  which  ran  with  tremendous 
force.  He  had  won  a  wife  who  was  yet  no  wife 
to  him.  He  had  to  win  her  love  after  marriage 
rather  than  before.  These  things  are  not  con- 
ferred by  the  ritual  of  Holy  Church  or  the  benison 
of  Reverend  Father  in  God.  Marriage  was  a 
sacrament.  The  outward  and  visible  part  was 
present.  The  inward,  yes  the  spiritual — for 
who  shall  decry  the  sanctity  of  great  passion? — had 
somehow  missed  him.  He  sat  there  a  long  time 
in  bitter  disappointment,  in  humiliation,  in 
resentment. 


Night  123 

He  had  never  suspected  or  ventured  to  hope 
that  his  wife  loved  him  as  he  loved  her,  yet  he 
knew  how  highly  she  thought  of  him.  Many 
marriages  had  been  based  upon  such  sentiments 
and  they  had  been,  perhaps,  happier  than  those 
that  began  with  greater  passions.  She  was  a 
woman.  She  must  have  known.  She  must  have 
expected.  There  could  be  only  one  way  of  ac- 
counting for  her  aversion,  for  her  horror.  Was 
there  some  one  else  in  her  heart? 

That  pierced  even  his  armour  of  self-restraint. 
Actuated  by  what  wild  temptation  and  deter- 
mination he  did  not  stop  to  analyse,  he  rose 
suddenly.  He  opened  the  door  quietly  and  looked 
in  the  direction  of  her  room.  Had  she  locked  the 
door?  No.  He  still  had  the  key.  He  saw  the 
door  was  slightly  open.  Was  this  an  invitation? 
His  heart  bounded  for  a  moment.  He  stepped 
softly  to  the  door,  paused,  then  entered  the  room. 

The  lights  were  out,  but  the  moonlight  fell 
faintly  upon  her  from  the  window.  His  wife  was 
asleep,  her  head  thrown  back  on  the  pillow.  One 
bare  arm  lay  outside  the  covers,  the  curious  silver 
bracelet  upon  it.  How  small  and  frail  and  beauti- 
ful and  torn  she  looked!  What  agonies  she  must 
have  gone  through !  He  bent  over  her.  As  she  had 
said,  she  was  his  for  the  taking,  and  the  tempta- 
tion to  take  was  great.  The  law  gave  her  to  him. 
What  held  him  back,  he  wondered,  tempted  as 
never  before? 

But  he  resisted.     He  had  given  his  word  that 


124          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

until  she  invited  a  closer  relationship  he  would  not 
presume,  and  so  after  a  while  he  turned  away 
and  left  her  asleep. 

Warburton  was  not  given  to  prayer,  but  he 
prayed  that  night  that  he  might  not  forget  himself, 
that  he  might  win  her  affection,  that  some  day 
she  might  be  to  him  what  he  had  fondly  hoped  his 
love  might  cause  her  to  be.  But  whatever  she 
was  or  would  be  he  would  serve  her  and  love  her. 
Her  happiness  should  be  his  supreme  and  only 


aim. 
«< 


I  will  gladly  spend  and  be  spent  for  you, 
though  the  more  abundantly  I  love  you  the  less 
I  be  loved, "  he  might  have  quoted  in  summing  up 
his  purpose  if  he  had  ever  read  the  mighty  words. 


CHAPTER  XII 

MORNING 

HER  sleep  had  been  a  long  time  coming.  She 
had  been  thoroughly  exhausted  by  the  long  strain 
of  the  elaborate  preparation  for  her  wedding, 
and  much  more  by  the  nerve-racking  episode  of 
the  night  before.  When  her  nerves  had  become 
somewhat  quieted  her  sleep  had  almost  developed 
into  a  lethargy.  The  sun  was  already  high  in  the 
heavens  when  its  light,  streaming  through  the 
unshuttered  windows,  at  last  awakened  her.  She 
opened  her  eyes  slowly — she  was  lying  on  her  side 
facing  the  window — and  stared  about  the  room 
in  bewilderment.  That  morning  she  did  not 
awaken  quickly,  alertly,  in  full  possession  of  her 
faculties  as  was  her  wont.  The  deep  obsession 
of  her  slumber  was  still  upon  her.  The  room  was 
utterly  unfamiliar  to  her.  She  gazed  about  it 
wonderingly.  What  could  it  mean? 

Ah!  Suddenly  there  came  to  her,  with  the 
illuminating  vividness  of  a  lightning  flash,  the 
consciousness  that  she  was  a  married  woman, 
that  she  was  no  longer  Chrissey  de  Selden.  The 

125 


126          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

thought  terrified  her.  What  had  happened  ?  Was 
she ? 

She  held  her  breath  to  listen.  Not  a  sound 
came  through  the  open  window.  It  was  an  en- 
tirely windless  morning.  Not  the  gentlest  air 
soughed  through  the  pines  outside.  Save  for  the 
beat  of  her  own  heart  there  was  no  sound  within. 
She  listened  for  a  breathing  on  the  pillow  next 
her  own.  She  heard  nothing.  She  began  to 
remember.  She  turned  her  head  quickly — thank 
God,  she  was  alone! 

She  lay  staring  at  the  untouched  pillow  by  her 
while  it  all  came  back  to  her.  On  the  bureau 
across  the  room  stood  a  little  gilt  boudoir  clock. 
She  looked  at  it.  The  hands  pointed  to  nine. 
After  most  nights  in  her  season  she  would  not 
have  thought  of  getting  up  at  such  an  hour,  but 
this  morning  it  was  different.  It  came  to  her 
suddenly  that  he  might  come  in  at  any  time.  It 
would  be  his  right.  The  thought  moved  her  to 
instant  action.  She  sprang  out  of  the  bed  and 
not  waiting  for  her  slippers  ran  swiftly  to  the 
door.  She  looked  across  the  hall  to  the  room, 
where  she  fancied  he  had  slept.  She  would  have 
been  appalled  if  she  had  realized  that  he  had  not 
closed  his  eyes  during  the  night. 

There  was  no  key  in  her  own  door.  What  did 
it  mean?  She  remembered  that  she  had  given 
it  to  him,  the  sign  of  an  authority  and  a  privilege 
he  had  not  claimed  or  ventured  to  exercise. 
Lacking  the  key  there  was  no  way  of  securing  her 


Morning  127 

door,  and  yet  she  could  not  dress  without  it.  She 
stood  listening.  There  was  no  sound  in  the  hall; 
none  that  she  could  detect  came  from  the  room 
opposite.  All  was  still.  She  could  not  even  hear 
the  servants.  She  forgot  for  the  moment  that 
their  part  of  the  house  was  far  removed  from  her 
room,  and  the  quiet  filled  her  with  sudden  terror. 
It  was  ominous,  as  if  destiny,  fate,  what  you  will, 
lurked  in  the  silence  on  every  hand  to  seize  her. 

In  panic  she  swung  to  her  door  and  as  she  did 
so  something  fell  from  it.  She  checked  herself, 
looked  down  a  moment  to  see  the  key  on  the  floor 
of  the  hall.  He  had  come  back  evidently  and 
fearing  to  awaken  her  had  placed  the  key  gently 
in  its  socket  on  the  outside  of  the  door.  She  felt 
no  gratitude  toward  him  for  that  or  for  his  for- 
bearance. She  did  not  seem  capable  of  it. 

The  possibilities  of  the  situation  were  so  horrible 
to  her  that  she  could  think  of  nothing  else.  She 
stooped  and  seized  the  key.  She  had  done  her 
part.  She  had  given  it  to  him.  He  had  returned 
it.  Henceforth  he  need  not  be  considered.  She 
thrust  it  in  the  keyhole  on  the  inside  and  turned 
the  lock.  Then  she  threw  up  her  hands  with  a 
gesture  that  indicated  safety,  relief  unspeakable. 
And  yet  any  ordinary  man  could  have  broken  the 
lock  in  a  minute, — John  Warburton  easily !  Some 
men  would  have  done  so.  If  he  had  been  there 
Warburton  might  have  tried  it. 

His  vigil,  his  long  watch  through  the  night, 
alone  in  his  room,  with  the  woman  he  loved  asleep 


128         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

as  it  were  under  his  hand  and  his  for  the  taking, 
had  driven  him  nearly  frantic.  He  had  fled 
temptation.  When  he  put  the  key  in  the  door 
very  early  that  morning  and  turned  away  he  had 
done  the  hardest  and  bravest  thing  of  his  brave 
hard  life  had  she  but  known  it. 

The  key  represented  to  her  not  so  much  a 
sacrifice  as  the  abdication  of  his  right.  She  read 
into  it  things  perhaps  it  did  not  connote  and  that 
he  did  not  intend  to  express.  At  any  rate  it  was 
safe  now  for  her  to  dress.  Her  trunks  had  been 
put  in  her  room  and  opened.  A  trousseau  usually 
contains  little  that  is  not  new,  even  though  she  had 
obeyed  the  pretty  couplet  that  says  a  bride  must 
wear 

Something  old  and  something  new, 
Something  borrowed,  something  blue — 

in  her  wedding  attire.  Moved  by  what  reasons 
she  could  not  explain — she  found  herself  often  in 
that  mental  plight — she  had  directed  her  maid  to 
include  in  the  trunks  one  or  two  dresses  that  she 
had  worn.  She  rummaged  through  the  hangers 
until  she  found  the  oldest  of  them.  That  she 
would  wear.  She  had  a  feeling  that  it  was  as- 
sociated with  her  girlhood  and  more  appropriate 
than  those  she  had  prepared  for  her  marriage — 
she  had  almost  said  martyrdom! 

Greatly  refreshed  by  her  bath,  clothed,  and  if 
not  in  her  right  mind  at  least  as  nearly  so  as  one 


Morning  129 

could  be  in  her  circumstances,  she  made  ready  to 
descend  the  stair.  She  remembered  that  night 
she  had  come  down  the  great  stair  in  the  New  York 
house  when  he  had  told  her —  Why  had  she  not 
broken  it  off  then,  when  she  had  the  opportunity  ? 
Would  he  be  waiting  for  her  at  the  foot  of  the  stair 
this  time  ?  What  would  he  say  or  do  ?  He  had  not 
kissed  her  then.  He  had  never  kissed  her  since 
their  engagement  except  that  one  time  last  night. 
She  shrank  from  the  meeting.  She  found  herself 
wondering  what  would  have  happened  if  Neyland 
had  been  waiting  for  her  below.  She  blushed 
scarlet  at  thoughts  that  rushed  into  her  mind  at 
which  she  had  the  grace  to  be  ashamed  and  yet 
which  she  did  not  strive  to  drive  away.  Neyland 
• — Warburton!  She  decided  she  could  not  go 
down  the  stair  to  meet  Warburton  without  finding 
out  something. 

She  stepped  over  to  the  wall  and  put  her  finger 
on  the  bell,  but  she  did  not  press  it.  It  would  be 
cowardly  so  to  do.  She  must  go  down  that  stair. 
She  must  meet  her  husband.  He  was  her  husband 
even  though  only  in  name.  The  De  Selden  blood 
had  never  shirked  responsibility,  she  thought 
proudly,  quite  oblivious  to  what  she  had  shirked 
the  night  before.  She  opened  the  door  and 
stepped  into  the  hall.  Glancing  through  the  door 
of  her  husband's  room  she  discovered  he  was  not 
there  and  she  noted  that  the  bed  had  not  been 
slept  in.  That  amazed  her  but  did  not  move  her 
in  any  other  way.  In  fact,  nothing  that  Warbur- 


130          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

ton  could  have  done  could  have  changed  her 
present  mood,  which  was  one  of  complete  defiance. 
She  had  been  helpless  the  night  before.  She  had 
appealed  to  his  mercy.  In  the  broad  light  of  day 
it  was  different.  She  came  down  the  stair  rapidly 
and  therefore  ungracefully,  not  as  she  had  de- 
scended before.  The  heels  of  her  slippers  rang  a 
tapping  defiance  as  she  came.  The  little  bravado 
went  for  naught.  There  was  no  one  in  the  great 
hall,  but  the  fire  of  logs  on  the  hearth  gave  her  a 
sense  of  life  and  human  companionship. 

She  touched  the  bell  and  the  butler  presented 
himself.  He  said  gravely: 

"Mr.  Warburton  got  up  early  and  has  gone  out 
shooting.  He  begs  you  to  excuse  him  and  he 
hopes  to  be  back  for  dinner. " 

That  wondrous  abnegation,  that  supremely 
courteous  withdrawal,  after  her  actions  of  the 
night  before  had  convinced  him  of  his  unwelcome 
presence,  might  have  touched  her.  She  felt  only 
relief  as  she  nodded  her  head  to  the  man. 

"Your  breakfast  is  served,  madam,"  he  con- 
tinued, opening  the  door  into  the  cozy  little  dining 
room  of  the  lodge. 

She  spent  a  long  and  lonesome  day.  At  first 
she  thought  of  having  one  of  the  women  servants 
up  to  her  room  to  unpack  her  trunks,  but  that 
seemed  to  give  a  permanence  and  finality  to  the 
situation  which  she  could  scarcely  bring  herself  to 
regard  as  more  than  temporary  and  transient. 
She  wandered  about  the  house  undecidedly.  She 


Morning  131 

played  a  little.  She  could  not  lift  her  lovely  voice 
in  song,  not  even  in  sad  song  befitted  to  her  mood. 
She  tried  to  read.  She  could  not  fix  her  attention 
on  the  book.  There  was  no  book,  however  in- 
teresting, however  exciting,  however  true  to  life, 
that  could  in  any  way  present  a  situation  so 
absorbing  as  her  own. 

She  hated  to  sit  and  think  because  when  she 
did  so  she  thought  of  Neyland.  There  was  a 
certain  loyalty  in  her  heart  that  made  her  ashamed 
of  that,  and  yet  she  could  not  help  it.  Why  did 
she  have  such  a  feeling?  She  thought  that  life 
with  a  man  she  loved,  whatever  his  character, 
whatever  his  degradation,  whatever  unhappiness 
of  circumstances  it  could  bring,  could  not  be 
worse  than  this,  therefore  she  hated  Warburton. 
She  did  not  admit  it,  perhaps  she  did  not  reaKze 
it,  but  if  he  had  struck  her  down  and  mastered  her 
like  a  cave-man  or  a  barbarian  she  might  have 
kissed  his  hands.  As  it  was,  his  very  forbearance 
and  restraint  won  only  her  contempt,  then.  And 
yet  she  was  grateful  to  him  for  that  consideration. 

There  was  no  consistency  in  her  thoughts. 
How  could  there  be  in  such  a  situation?  Ordi- 
narily she  was  a  resourceful  woman  and  could  have 
been  quite  happy  alone,  but  not  then.  At  last, 
after  playing  with  a  luncheon,  she  ordered  the  car 
and  drove  over  the  hills  and  far  away.  There  was 
a  spice  of  excitement  in  the  drive,  too,  because 
she  might  run  across  her  husband  in  his  hunting. 
She  wanted  that,  and  she  did  not  want  it.  She 


132         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

craved  to  have  it  out,  to  settle  things  finally,  and 
then  she  feared  the  trial  lest  she  might  not 
succeed. 

She  was  driven  by  the  wind  of  her  passion  and 
tossed.  After  a  while  she  dispossessed  the  chauf- 
feur and  took  the  wheel  of  the  big  powerful  motor 
and  drove  it  madly  over  the  roads  until  the  man 
ventured  to  remonstrate  with  her.  It  was  six 
o'clock  when  she  got  back  to  the  house.  No,  her 
husband  had  not  yet  returned.  The  butler  said 
dinner  would  be  ready  at  seven  and  madam  would 
have  time  to  dress  for  that  function.  He  seemed 
to  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course  that  she  would, 
but  she  was  firmly  resolved  not  to  do  so.  She 
would  not  make  herself  beautiful.  She  did  not 
belong  to  Warburton  in  her  heart  and  he  should 
not 

The  telephone  bell  rang.  It  was  the  butler's 
business  to  answer,  but  as  she  was  nearest  to  it 
she  picked  up  the  instrument  herself — anything 
for  occupation,  distraction.  The  railroad  agent 
at  Suffern  was  on  the  other  end  of  the  wire. 

"Is  Mr.  Warburton  there?" 

"No.     What  is  it?" 

"I  have  an  important  telegram  for  him.  Will 
he  be  in  soon?" 

"I  think  so.  He  is  expected  any  moment.  I 
am  Mrs.  Warburton,  can't  you  give  me  the 
message?" 

"By  no  means,"  came  the  quick  reply.  "I 
mean — I  beg  your  pardon — er — Mr.  Warburton 


Morning  133 

gave  us  strict  orders  to  deliver  telegrams  to  him 
personally  and " 

"I  quite  understand,"  she  replied.  "It  is  of 
no  consequence.  I  will  tell  him  so  soon  as  he 
comes  in." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  agent.  "And  you  may 
tell  him  that  we  have  a  special  train  on  the  siding, 
which  I  have  ventured  to  make  up  in  case  he  needs 
it." 

"Is  it  so  important  as  that?" 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

She  hung  up  the  receiver  and  turned  to  the  man. 

"You  heard?  There  is  a  telegram  at  Suffern 
for  Mr.  Warburton.  Tell  him  to  call  up  the 
agent  so  soon  as  he  comes  in.  He  would  not  give 
it  to  me." 

She  turned  and  went  up  to  her  room,  not  to 
change  her  dress,  but  because  she  did  not  want  to 
meet  her  husband  until  dinner  was  served.  The 
servants  would  be  there  then  and  there  would  be 
no  possibility  of  explanations  or  discussions.  Those 
would  have  to  come  later.  So  she  sat  down  by 
the  window  and  stared  out  across  the  pine  trees 
and  down  the  mountain  toward  the  river  cold  and 
grey  in  the  twilight, — cold  and  grey  like  her  life 
in  spite  of  the  hot  blood  that  throbbed  in  her 
veins  and  the  fierce  beat  of  her  imprisoned  heart. 

Presently  Warburton  came  in.  His  step  was 
heavy  and  strong.  It  rang  determinedly  on  the 
floor  below.  She  glanced  at  the  clock.  It  was 
nearly  seven.  She  would  go  down  now  lest  he 


134         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

catch  her  in  her  room.  She  opened  the  door  and 
as  she  did  so  she  heard  him  call  the  agent  on  the 
telephone.  .  .  .  She  went  rapidly  along  the 
hall  and  was  half  way  down  the  stair  when  his 
voice  stopped  her. 

"Good  God!"  exclaimed  Warburton  at  the 
telephone.  "When  did  the  message  come?" 

"About  an  hour  ago,  sir." 

"Repeat  it." 

There  was  a  pause.  She  stopped  on  the  stair, 
but  he  was  so  much  engrossed  in  the  message  that 
he  did  not  hear  her  and  he  was  not  aware  that  she 
was  there. 

"Stricken,  dying!"  he  gasped.  "I  shall  re- 
quire a  special  train  at  once." 

She  remembered  that  the  agent  had  said  one 
was  ready  and  she  knew  his  answer. 

"Good,"  said  her  husband.  "I  shall  be  down 
in  ten  minutes  with  Mrs.  Warburton.  I  shall 
see  that  your  foresight  is  rewarded,"  he  con- 
tinued. 

Warburton  hung  up  the  receiver,  turned  to  the 
stair  and,  discovering  her,  stopped  and  stared  at 
her  in  dismay. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"  Christianna, "  he  began  gravely — the  news  he 
had  to  communicate  had  shocked  and  sobered  him, 
but  his  pulses  were  dancing  and  his  heart  throbbing 
as  he  saw  her  there.  If  she  had  thought  to  create 
an  unfavourable  impression  by  a  dress  that  he  had 
seen  many  times  she  had  failed,  for  as  it  happened 


Morning  135 

he  loved  her  in  the  rich  wine  colour  of  that  familiar 
suit  that  so  well  became  her  dark  beauty.  If  she 
had  loved  him  he  would  have  run  toward  her  and 
taken  her  in  his  arms  and  given  her  the  comfort 
and  support  of  his  sympathy  and  presence  but  she 
had  erected  a  barrier  between  them  which  he  had 
sworn  during  that  long  day  alone  in  the  woods 
that  he  would  not  attempt  to  batter  down  or 
overleap.  Her  own  hands  must  open  the  way. 
And  so  he  stood  rigid,  erect.  She  did  not  wish 
to  admit  how  powerful  and  manly  he  was  in  that 
rough  hunting  suit,  his  gun  in  hand,  but  she  had  to 
recognize  it.  He  looked  like  a  conquerer  and  she 
felt  helpless  before  him.  His  voice  was  cold  and 
measured  as  usual. 

"Christianna,  prepare  yourself." 

"Oh,  what  is  it?" 

' '  Your  mother  has  been  suddenly  stricken.  She 
is  ill,  dying." 

Chrissey  de  Selden  swayed  on  the  stair. 

"Dodson, "  said  Warburton,  "look  to  your 
mistress." 

The  butler  sprang  to  assist  her.  Somehow  or 
other  she  managed  to  descend  the  stair  and  sink 
into  a  chair. 

"The  agent  has  a  special  train  ready.  Dodson 
have  the  motor  brought  around  at  once.  Tell  the 
maid  to  get  some  of  Mrs.  Warburton 's  things 
together.  I  will  take  off  these  clothes  in  a 
moment.  Courage,"  he  said  stepping  toward  the 
stair. 


136          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Unconsciously  she  shrank  away  a  little. 

"Have  no  fear, "  he  added  with  a  double  mean- 
ing which  she  was  quick  to  see,  "your  mother  is 
still  alive  and  is  asking  for  you.  I'll  get  you  there 
as  quickly  as  steam  can  carry  you.  Dodson, 
telephone  and  have  the  motor  yacht  meet  us  at 
Hoboken  and  the  car  at  the  Columbia  Yacht  Club 
landing  without  fail, "  he  continued  to  the  butler. 
"We  shall  be  there  in  less  than  an  hour. " 

"Very  good,  sir." 

"Mrs.  Hamil, "  he  said  to  the  housekeeper, 
"pray  assist  Mrs.  Warburton  to  pack  a  few  things 
and  make  ready  for  a  return  to  the  city ;  her  mother 
is  seriously  ill." 

With  that  he  was  gone.  Later  they  sat  in  the 
tonneau  of  the  car  side  by  side  as  before.  He  did 
not  offer  to  touch  her  and  she  did  not  wish  to  touch 
him.  When  they  reached  the  station  the  agent 
gave  them  a  copy  of  the  telegram  and  a  second 
telegram  in  answer  to  Warbur ton's  wire,  which  said 
there  was  no  change  but  that  they  must  hurry. 
She  was  so  dazed  and  shocked  by  the  news  that 
she  could  not  think  of  anything  else,  yet  in  the 
midst  of  her  grief  and  anxiety  for  her  mother  a 
selfish  thought  would  obtrude  itself.  So  long  as 
her  mother  lived  there  was  someone  to  whom  to  go 
who  would  sympathize,  who  would  understand. 
If  her  mother  died  she  would  be  alone  in  the  world, 
alone  with  Warburton,  more  alone  than  ever. 
When  she  prayed,  as  she  did  in  that  long  silent 
ride  in  the  swaying,  hurtling  train  dragged  over 


Morning  137 

the  rails,  which  had  been  cleared  for  the  passage  of 
the  special,  at  tremendous  speed,  she  could  not 
but  wonder  whether  she  was  praying  for  herself  or 
for  her  mother,  that  all  might  be  well. 


BOOK  III 

THE  "STILL- VEXED  BERMOOTHES 


CHAPTER  XIII 

ONCE  MORE  THE  SEA 

CHRISSEY  WARBURTON  sat  on  the  upper  deck  of 
the  Bermudian  and  stared  indifferently  at  the 
swiftly  passing  shores  of  Staten  Island  covered 
with  leafless  trees  standing  bleak  and  bare  in  the 
cold  sunshine  of  December.  The  sharp  wind  of 
the  bitter  morning  scarcely  served  to  bring  a  touch 
of  color  to  her  pale  and  wasted  cheeks.  She  was 
dressed  in  sables  and  well  wrapped  in  steamer  rugs. 

Her  bonnet,  as  would  her  dress  had  it  been 
visible,  indicated  deep  mourning.  An  hour  ago 
she  had  bade  her  husband  farewell.  Much 
water  had  flowed  under  the  bridge  since  that 
October  night  when  she  had  been  afraid.  They 
had  reached  home  after  a  mad  ride  in  train,  in 
motor  boat,  in  automobile,  just  in  time  for  the 
girl,  surely  a  woman  now,  to  receive  her  mother's 
blessing,  to  hear  her  last  faint  whispered  words. 
Strangely  enough  these  words  had  been  addressed 
to  John  Warburton. 

"We  were  left  to  you  by  my  husband,  John — 
when  Chrissey  was  a  little  baby  and  now — I  leave 

141 


142         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

her  to  you,  again, "  she  faltered  in  a  low  whisper. 
"You  will  be  good  to  her?" 

John  Warburton,  who  could  scarcely  trust  him- 
self to  speak  in  view  of  all  the  emotions  that  filled 
his  heart,  nodded  his  head. 

"I  know,"  said  Mrs.  de  Selden  smiling  up  at 
him,  and  the  rest  was  silence. 

It  had  come  so  suddenly,  so  overwhelmingly, 
that  the  daughter  did  not  give  way  to  the  natural 
outburst  of  grief  that  might  have  been  expected. 
Warburton  felt  very  tender  toward  her.  She 
looked  so  small  and  broken  and  ill.  In  spite  of 
her  repulsion  his  heart  was  filled  with  love  for  her. 
He  would  fain  have  taken  her  in  his  arms  and 
comforted  her  as  though  she  had  been  a  tired  child, 
but  she  would  have  none  of  it.  Without  bending 
her  head  she  walked  quietly  from  the  room  and 
not  until  she  had  sought  her  own  chamber,  the  one 
that  she  had  occupied  as  a  girl  and  as  a  young 
woman,  not  the  room  that  he  had  prepared  for  her 
when  alterations  had  been  made  before  the  mar- 
riage, did  she  break  down.  She  barely  managed 
to  support  herself  and  keep  on  her  feet  until  after 
the  funeral. 

It  was  from  the  same  church  from  which  she  had 
been  married  a  few  days  before  and,  as  at  that 
time,  she  walked  down  the  aisle  on  the  arm  of 
John  Warburton  again.  How  different  was  her 
position!  Ages  seemed  to  have  rolled  between. 
She  hated  herself  because  she  could  not  love  John 
Warburton.  His  manner  had  been  unexception- 


Once  More  the  Sea  143 

able.  No  one  could  have  shown  more  delicacy 
than  he.  The  man  was  a  miracle.  He  was  too 
perfect  for  her  comprehension.  It  seemed  to  her 
as  if  his  every  word,  his  every  action  were  calling 
attention  to  the  fact  that  no  man  on  earth  could 
have  behaved  better.  His  course  was  absolutely 
flawless. 

Well,  it  was  not  until  they  entered  the  great 
house  after  the  funeral  and  confronted  each  other 
in  the  drawing-room  so  lately  tenanted  by  the 
dead  whose  presence  was  still  felt,  that  the  wife 
who  was  no  wife  gave  way. 

"  Christianna, "  began  the  husband — speaking 
then  was  one  of  the  few  mistakes  he  had  made  since 
God — was  it  God? — had  joined  them  together — • 
"  I  desire  to  indulge  you  in  all  things  but  we  must 
come  to  some  understanding  and " 

"Not  now,"  cried  the  woman  hysterically. 

She  did  not  wait  for  his  answer  for  she  fainted 
dead  away.  Perhaps  she  read  more  in  his  request 
than  he  intended.  At  any  rate,  the  decision  was 
perforce  postponed  for  when  she  recovered  con- 
sciousness she  was  violently  ill.  Her  marriage,  her 
realization  of  what  it  meant,  the  deadly  fear  of  her 
husband,  her  recognition  that  she  loved  Neyland, 
the  shame  of  that  acknowledgment,  the  feeling 
that  she  could  never  belong  to  her  husband,  the 
awful  shock  of  her  mother's  sudden  death,  the 
consciousness  that  she  was  alone  in  the  house,  in 
the  world,  with  a  man  whom  she  all  but  hated,  all 
combined  to  crush  her. 


144         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Why  had  Warburton  not  taken  her  as  men  have 
taken  women  since  time  and  the  world  began? 
Even  as  the  violent  sometimes  take  the  kingdom 
of  heaven?  Even  in  that  he  had  failed  to  measure 
up  to  the  power  she  had  thought  was  in  him. 
Inconsistently  she  would  have  hated  him  more 
if  he  had  done  so  and  if  she  had  had  a  weapon  she 
would  have  struck  him  to  the  heart  with  it  if  he 
had  made  such  an  attempt,  and  yet  unconsciously 
she  hated  him  more  because  he  had  not  done  so. 
She  feared  him  without  realizing  that  sometimes 
the  fear  of  a  husband  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom 
— for  a  wife. 

All  this  had  strained  her  nerves  to  the  breaking 
point.  She  had  denied  herself  to  everyone  except 
Rose  Tayloe,  who  had  been  constancy  and  devo- 
tion itself.  Her  physician  had  aided  her  in  that 
desire.  She  must  have  absolute  rest.  Being  her 
husband,  of  course  Warburton  must  have  access 
to  her  chamber.  Morning  and  evening  he  came 
to  see  her,  but  his  visits  were  brief  and  colourless. 
She  wished  that  he  would  not  obtrude  himself 
upon  her,  and  her  desire  was  but  too  apparent. 
Nevertheless,  he  would  come  if  only  for  appearance 
sake,  he  told  himself,  although  really  because  he 
hungered  for  the  sight  of  the  small  pale  face,  the 
delicate  head  upon  the  white  linen  of  the  pillow 
in  the  great  bed  which  knew  him  not.  Although 
he  was  not  insensible  that  she  was  happier  when 
he  was  not  there,  he  came. 

There  was  a  limit  even  to  his  powers.    He 


Once  More  the  Sea  145 

thought  that  some  day  he  would  kill  her  without 
mercy  unless —  For  the  rest  he  compassed  her 
with  sweet  observances  and  hoped  that  in  some 
way  he  might  keep  her  true. 

One  day  after  she  had  grown  a  little  better  Rose 
Tayloe  came  in.  She  was  bursting  with  news. 
Great  tidings  trembled  on  her  lips.  She  could 
hardly  speak  softly  and  gently  about  them.  The 
Duke,  manfully  accepting  his  defeat  so  far  as 
Miss  de  Selden  was  concerned,  had  transferred  his 
heart  to  Rose  Tayloe  and  had  laid  the  ducal 
coronet  of  the  ancient  house  of  Attavanti  at  her 
feet. 

"Of  course,"  said  Rose  apologetically,  "he  is  a 
little  smaller  than  I  am  but  that  doesn't  make  so 
much  difference  in  a  Duke,  does  it?" 

"No,"  whispered  the  other  woman,  patting 
her  friend's  hand  tenderly,  "nothing  makes  any 
difference  where  there  is  love." 

"I  suppose  I  ought  to  be  furiously  jealous  of 
you,"  said  Rose,  "because  he  did  love  you  first 
and  if  you  hadn't  turned  him  down  I'd  never  have 
got  him." 

The  other  girl  bent  over  her  friend  and  kissed 
her,  and  Chrissey's  brow  was  wet  with  one  of 
Rose's  rare  tears. 

"You  need  not  be  in  the  least  afraid,"  she  said 
softly.  "He  never  really  cared  for  me  even  when 
he  was  making  love  to  me,  I  often  caught  him  look- 
ing at  you.  If  I  had  been  fond  of  him  I  should 
have  resented  it  bitterly." 


146         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Yes,  he  said  he  couldn't  decide  between  us," 
answered  the  other  girl,  greatly  pleased,  "and 
that  he  was  glad  that  fortune  had  finally  elim- 
inated you  and — er — opened  his  eyes  to — er — my 
— well,  you  know  what  a  man  would  say. " 

"Of  course." 

"And  about  that  duel,  he  said  he  fought  Mr. 
Neyland  for  the  honour  of  womankind.  He  is  a 
man  of  very  high  ideals  and  it  was  as  much  for  me 
as  for  any  one. " 

"I'm  sure  he  loves  you  as  you  ought  to  be  loved, 
Rose." 

"Weil,  it's  a  comfort  to  hear  you  say  that," 
said  Rose  with  more  relief  in  her  voice  than  she 
fancied,  "because  I  am  really  very  fond  of  him. 
He  is  adorable." 

"That's  what  I  mean,"  whispered  Chrissey. 
"If  there  is  love  things  may  be  wrong  but  they 
will  not  be  so  wrong  as  they  will  be  without 
any " 

Rose  Tayloe  was  quick  witted  and  a  close  ob- 
server. She  read  aright  the  look  in  her  friend's 
face  and  although  Chrissey  Warburton  would 
have  died  rather  than  betray  her  secret,  in  her 
weakness  her  guard  was  down.  Rose  Tayloe 
was  her  oldest  friend.  She  could  say  things  which 
no  one  else  could  say. 

"Chrissey,"  she  cried,  "you  don't  mean ?" 

The  woman  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you,"  she  said  at  last, 
"but  marriage  without  love " 


Once  More  the  Sea  147 

She  stopped;  it  was  inexpressible.  For  all  her 
keenness  the  other  girl  did  not  fully  understand. 

"But  Mr.  Warburton  is  so " 

"He  is  perfection  itself,"  admitted  the  wife, 
"and  that  makes  me  hate " 

' '  Not  your  husband ! ' ' 

"No,  not  exactly,  but  my  situation,  the  more. 
If  you  can't  marry  the  man  you  love  you  would 
better  die  than  marry  the  man  you  don't." 

"It's  Mr.  Neyland,  I  suppose." 

"I — I — don't  love  my  husband  and  I  wish  I 
were  in  my  mother's  place,"  evasively  answered 
the  woman  on  the  bed,  averting  her  face.  "If 
you  don't  love  the  Duke  more  than  everything 
under  heaven,  don't  marry  him.  You  don't 
realize  what  it  means." 

"But  I  do  love  him  and  I  shall  marry  him." 

"I  pray  God  that  you  will  be  happier  than  I 
have  been. " 

"But  you're  not  yourself  now,  Chris,  dear. 
You're  overwrought,  unstrung.  Your  poor  mo- 
ther's death " 

"It  was  just  the  same  before  she  died.  I  think 
I  hate  him. " 

"Was  he  unkind  to  you?"  asked  the  other 
shocked  at  this  terrible  revelation. 

"He  left  me  alone.  If  he  had  only  beaten  me 
I  might  have  hated  him  still,  but  I  would  have 
respected  him. " 

"I  think  it  was  noble  of  him.  Surely  he  can 
win  your  love. " 


148         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Love!"  burst  from  the  woman  on  the  bed  and 
in  the  violence  of  her  emotion  she  sat  up  and 
Rose  noticed  with  a  heart  pang  how  frail  she 
looked  and  ill.  It  is  not  until  we  arise  from  the 
sick  bed  that  people  see  what  ravages  have  been 
wrought  in  us  by  our  illnesses.  "How  could  I 
love  him  when  my  heart  is  filled  with  someone 
else?" 

"It  is  true  then?" 

"Yes." 

"But  he  doesn't  compare  with " 

"What  difference  does  that  make?  I  know  how 
weak  he  is.  I  know  his  career,  and  I  know  that 
I  love  him.  I'd  rather  be  his  slave,  even  his  dog, 
than  John  Warburton's  wife." 

Women  can  speak  to  each  other  voicelessly. 
They  need  no  words.  Rose  Tayloe  being  the 
stronger  sat  down  on  the  bed  and  gathered  her 
frailer,  slighter  sister  to  her  breast.  They  were 
the  same  age  but  she  held  her  almost  as  a  mother 
might  a  child. 

"It  will  all  come  right,  dear  Chris,"  she  whis- 
pered. 

"It's  wrong  of  me  to  have  told  you  this,"  said 
the  woman  at  last.  "It's  disloyal  and — but  I 
owe  him  nothing,  nothing.  I  suppose  some  day 
I  will  get  used  to  the  idea  and  be  like  other  women 
but  not  now.  He  comes  in  every  morning  and 
every  evening  and  he  looks  at  me  so  strangely  I  am 
afraid  to  get  well." 

Actuated  by  the  very  highest  motives  Rose 


Once  More  the  Sea  149 

Tayloe  told  her  father  of  the  interview.  If  there 
was  a  man  on  earth  for  whom  John  Warburton 
had  a  deep  and  abiding  respect  and  even  affection 
it  was  for  old  Colonel  Tayloe.  He  would  allow 
the  Colonel  to  say  things  to  him  that  no  one  else 
could  attempt.  The  old  man  was  tact  and  dis- 
cretion itself. 

"Warburton,"  he  said,  choosing  his  time, 
"you  ought  to  get  your  wife  away  for  a  little 
while." 

"I'll  take  her  anywhere  in  the  world,"  said 
Warburton. 

"No,"  said  the  Colonel  quietly,  "that  is  not 
exactly  what  I  mean.  You  ought  to  send  her 
some  place  where  she  can  be  alone  to  think  things 
out." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"My  dear  boy," — and  there  was  no  one  on 
earth  who  would  dare  address  Warburton  like 
that  save  the  Colonel — "I  am  old  enough  to — 
ah — be  your  father.  I  don't  mean  anything  and 
I  don't  intend  to  say  anything  further  except 
that  sometimes  it  is  well  for  a  man  and  wife  to  be 
separated  for  a  little,  to  give  the  woman  time  to 
adjust  her  thoughts,  and  the  man  too.  You 
must  not  get  angry.  I  have  only  your  happiness 
at  heart.  There  is  no  other  man  on  earth  to 
whom  I  would  say  what  I  have." 

"And  there  is  no  other  man,"  said  Warburton 
grimly,  "to  whom  I  would  allow  the  privilege." 

"The  wedding,  the  shock  of  her  mother's  death 


150         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

in  her  nervous  condition,  she  could  not  stand  it. 
A  sea  voyage  would  be  well.  I  suggest  that  you 
arrange  to  send  her  down  to  Bermuda.  It  is 
lovely  there  now  and  you  will  be  within  easy 
reach  if  she  needs  you." 

"If  I  take  your  advice  at  all  I  should  take  it 
all,"  said  Warburton  quietly.  "I'll  have  the 
yacht  put  in  commission." 

"No,  I  don't  believe  I'd  do  that." 

"What  then?" 

"  Let  her  go  down  on  the  steamer  with  her  maid. 
She  won't  care  to  go  to  a  hotel  but  there  are  cottages 
to  be  had.  Rose  and  I  know  of  one  overlook- 
ing Hamilton  Harbour  not  far  from  the  Belmont. 
It  is  quite  private.  It  has  every  comfort  and 
convenience.  There  are  extensive  grounds  at- 
tached to  it.  I  remember  the  long  row  of  oleanders 
that  border  the  drive.  It  is  a  heavenly  place. 
You  can  send  servants  down  ahead  so  that  she 
will  have  every  comfort.  She  will  be  glad  to  be 
alone,  she  can  rest  and  think  things  out,  and  she 
can  adjust  herself  to  her  new  relations.  You 
understand?" 

"I  do." 

"I  will  say  no  more  then,  except  to  wish  you 
the  happiness  that  I  know  you  deserve  and  I  am 
sure  you  will  win." 

The  old  man  did  not  wait  for  any  answer. 

"By  the  way,"  he  continued,  "you  know  the 
engagement  between  Rose  and  the  Duke  is 
announced?" 


Once  More  the  Sea  151 

"Is  she  marrying  him  because  he  is  a  Duke  or 
does  she  love  him?" 

From  another  man  or  under  other  circumstances 
Colonel  Tayloe  would  have  resented  that  query. 
He  noticed  the  bitterness  in  Warburton's  voice. 

"I  asked  her  that  after  the  Duke  approached 
me.  She  told  me  that  she  loved  him  and  I  could 
see  from  her  voice  and  look  that  it  was  true." 

"And  he?" 

"He  seems  devotion  itself  and  I  believe  he  is." 

"It's  all  right  then." 

It  was  singular  how  his  view  coincided  with 
that  of  his  wife,  if  either  had  but  known  it,  on 
that  raw  December  morning  which  found  Chrissey 
Warburton  outward  bound. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


'THE  POSY  OF  A  RING" 


As  the  Bermudian  made  her  southing  the  rough 
raw  weather  of  the  first  day  gave  place  to  the 
smoother  seas  and  balmy  airs  of  the  semi-tropic 
waters.  Her  furs  discarded  for  lighter  wraps  and 
those  thrown  upon  her  chair,  Chrissey  Warburton 
sat  on  the  deck  alone  plunged  in  reverie.  With 
each  traversed  league  of  ocean  realities  grew 
less  and  imaginations  grew  greater. 

She  had  left  Warburton  behind  and  although 
she  was  not  going  to  meet  Neyland  he  was  some- 
how before.  For  the  first  time  since  she  had 
received  the  bracelet  which  she  had  so  constantly 
worn,  the  uninterrupted  luxury  of  imagination 
with  which  she  dwelt  upon  Neyland  suddenly 
connected  him  with  the  little  bauble  that  circled 
her  arm  outside  the  long  black  glove,  which 
enhanced  the  silver  and  the  jewels  set  therein. 

She  wondered  idly  if  he  had  sent  it,  what  it 
meant.  Now  that  he  had  sent  it  had  never  before 
occurred  to  her  because  among  her  many  wedding 
gifts  one  of  the  most  costly  and  beautiful  had 
borne  his  card.  If,  therefore,  she  reasoned  still 

152 


"The  Posy  of  a  Ring"          153 

languidly  and  yet  with  a  slightly  growing  interest, 
he  had  sent  the  large  and  acknowledged  gift  to 
cover  the  small  and  unadmitted  one  it  would 
only  be  because  the  latter  was  the  more  important. 
That  its  importance  could  not  lie  in  its  intrinsic 
value  she  at  once  recognized,  postulating,  as 
all  adventurous  thinkers,  the  correctness  of  her 
hypothesis  until  it  had  been  disproved.  She 
had  not  accumulated  the  wealthy  woman's  usual 
stock  of  beautiful  jewels  without  learning  some- 
thing of  their  quality  and  value  and  she  realized 
that  even  by  the  most  extravagant  estimate  the 
little  bracelet  could  scarcely  have  cost  fifty 
dollars.  Therefore  the  importance  of  the  bracelet 
must  lie  in  something  else.  What? 

Following  this  turn  of  thought  she  slipped  it  off 
her  arm  and  gave  it  a  very  close  and  careful  inspec- 
tion. There  were  thirteen  stones  of  all  colours 
and  cuttings  embedded  in  the  narrow  band  of 
roughly  hammered  silver,  finished  with  that  soft 
glaze  which  is  known  as  "butler."  She  identified 
seven  of  them  without  difficulty.  Turning  the 
narrow  ellipse  over  and  over,  looking  at  the 
gems  again  and  again,  she  finally  held  it  motion- 
less by  chance  with  the  longer  axis  vertical.  One 
or  the  other  end  of  that  axis  was  the  top,  she 
decided. 

In  the  position  in  which  she  held  it  she  noticed 
that  at  the  top,  if  it  were  so,  was  a  delicate  brown- 
ish-green stone  cut  cabochon.  The  brown  and 
the  green  were  interwoven,  blending.  She  had 


154          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

not  the  least  idea  what  it  was.  The  next  stone 
on  the  right,  which  would  be  the  way  a  person 
would  read,  was  easily  identifiable.  She  had 
seen  too  many  pieces  of  that  deep  rich  blue  stone 
not  to  recognize  lapis  lazuli.  She  breathed  the 
word  aloud  and  the  combination  of  liquids  struck 
her  ear.  The  "L"  sound  was  prominent  in  her 
mind.  The  next  stone  was  also  easy.  It  was  a 
beautiful  little  Hungarian  opal.  Its  translucent 
fires  seemed  fairly  to  clamour  some  silent  message 
to  her,  and  again  the  emphasis  on  the  first  syllable 
brought  the  vowel  to  her  mind.  She  associated 
it  with  the  predominant  note  of  the  lapis  lazuli 
and  she  had  "L-O."  The  next  inset  was  a  clear 
translucent  brownish  stone  shot  with  fine  hair 
lines.  She  could  make  nothing  of  it.  She  had 
never  seen  anything  like  it  although  it  had  some 
resemblance  to  an  agate.  But  the  fourth  stone 
in  the  succession  was  plain.  It  had  the  deep 
rich  green  of  an  emerald.  "L-O-something- 
E" — Love,  of  course! 

She  nearly  dropped  the  bracelet  when  she 
stumbled  upon  this !  Whatever  that  brown  stone 
with  the  little  hair  lines  might  be  it  certainly 
must  stand  for  ''V."  Love!  Neyland?  Who 
else  would  dare  send  her  such  a  message?  Eagerly 
she  continued  the  examination.  The  next  stone 
was  a  bit  of  peculiar  looking  jade,  not  milky  but 
a  deeper  green  than  that  to  which  she  was  ac- 
customed, yet  unmistakably  jade.  "J"!  What 
could  that  mean? 


"The  Posy  of  a  Ring"  155 

To  identify  the  seventh  stone  was  easy.  It  was 
a  fragment  of  highly  polished  onyx.  Was  there 
any  law  by  which  "J"  and  "Y"  were  interchange- 
able? In  some  languages,  yes,  but  not  in  English. 
If  that  "J"  had  been  "Y"  she  would  have  been 
sure,  indeed  she  was  almost  certain,  the  three 
stones  spelled  "Y-O-U."  "L-0-V-E-Y-O-U,"  al- 
though she  had  no  idea  what  was  the  name  of 
the  eighth  stone,  a  little  speck  of  greenish  yellow. 
If  her  deductions  were  correct  the  first  stone  to 
which  she  looked  back  must  be  something  that 
began  with  "I,"  and  behold,  she  had  a  sentence, 
"I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U,"  I  love  you! 

She  was  progressing.  With  renewed  zest  and 
growing  excitement  she  identified  the  ninth 
stone  instantly.  It  was  a  sparkling  piece  of 
purple  amethyst.  "A."  She  could  make  nothing 
of  the  next  two,  the  tenth  and  the  eleventh,  one  a 
yellowish  green  stone  and  the  other  a  brilliant, 
transparent  blue  one.  The  twelfth  stone  flashed 
redly  before  her  vision.  It  was  not  a  ruby  but  it 
belonged  to  the  family.  "R"— Richard!  The 
last  stone  came  into  her  view  as  she  completed  her 
inspection  of  the  circlet.  This  jewel  showed  a  bit 
of  white  colour  with  flecks  of  green  in  it.  She 
could  not  identify  it  in  any  way  but  it  must  be 
something  that  began  with  "  N."  "  R-N  "  Richard 
Neyland ! 

Greatly  excited  she  sent  one  of  the  deck  stewards 
for  her  maid  and  had  her  bring  a  pencil  and  paper 
from  their  cabin.  She  wrote  thirteen  numbers 


156          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

down  on  the  paper  and  under  each  number  she 
put  the  letters  of  which  she  was  positive,  leaving 
those  which  she  could  not  identify  blank  and  this 
was  the  result. 

I.  2.  3.  4.  5.  6.  7.  8.  9.  10.  ii.  12.  13. 
—  LO— EJO— A R    — 

Allowing  her  imagination  to  supply  stones  and 
letters  which  she  did  not  know,  she  was  morally 
certain  that  the  message  of  the  bracelet  was  "I 
love  you"  followed  by  three  letters  of  which  she 
could  make  nothing  from  the  first  "A"  and  then 
the  letter  "R"  and  another  unknown.  When  she 
reached  this  conclusion  she  lifted  the  bracelet 
to  her  lips  and  kissed  it.  By  chance  or  selection 
she  touched  it  at  the  piece  of  red  stone  which 
stood  for  his  name. 

She  had  been  carelessly  indifferent  as  to  when 
she  should  arrive  or  what  she  should  do  when  she 
reached  the  Bermudas.  She  had  gone  principally 
because  it  removed  her  from  daily  contact  with 
Warburton  upon  whose  forbearance  she  was  not 
sure  that  she  could  count  indefinitely.  Now  she 
was  on  fire  to  land.  Her  first  visit  would  be  to  the 
best  jewellers  in  Hamilton,  to  whom  she  would 
submit  the  bracelet  in  order  to  learn  the  names  of 
the  missing  stones  and  complete  the  resolving  of 
the  riddle  of  the  speaking  circlet.  Although  she 
was  certain  she  had  the  purport  of  the  message, 
she  would  not  be  satisfied  until  every  content  in 


"The  Posy  of  a  Ring"  157 

the  enigma  was  her  own.  It  was  a  different  wo- 
man who  stood  on  the  deck  as  the  steamer  swept 
slowly  through  the  narrow  passes  between  the 
little  islands  so  close  at  hand  that  one  might 
almost  have  leaped  to  the  shore  as  the  Bermudian 
entered  the  harbour. 

Servants  were  waiting  her  at  the  dock,  another 
evidence  of  Warburton's  thoughtful  care  for  her, 
which  now  filled  her  with  irritation.  The  house 
he  had  rented  for  her  at  Colonel  Tayloe's  sugges- 
tion was  over  in  Warwick  beyond  the  Belmont 
Hotel.  It  was  a  drive  of  several  miles  around  the 
end  of  the  harbour,  but  before  she  took  it  she 
directed  the  man  to  drive  her  to  the  leading 
jeweller's  shop  in  the  town.  She  asked  to  see 
the  proprietor  and  was  ushered  into  a  private 
office  occupied  by  an  elderly  man,  who  proved  to 
be  something  of  a  lapidary.  She  handed  the 
bracelet  to  him  with  her  questions,  waiting  with 
ill-concealed  impatience  while  he  examined  it 
critically. 

"Some  of  the  stones  I  know,"  she  said,  "but 
others  are  strange  to  me.  That  one,  for  instance, 
at  the  top  of  the  bracelet." 

"That  brownish  green  stone,"  said  the  jeweller, 
"is  a  piece  of  idocrase." 

"Ah!"  she  exclaimed  repeating  the  word  and 
emphasizing  the  vowel.  "I  know  the  next  two, 
lapis  lazuli  and  opal." 

"Yes,  and  the  fourth  stone  with  the  delicate 
filaments  of  hornblende  is  a  bit  of  rock  crystal." 


158         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Is  there  any  other  name  for  it?" 

"Yes,  it  is  popularly  known  as  Venus-hair- 
stone." 

"I  see,"  she  said  smiling  at  this  confirmation  of 
her  supposition.  "The  next  stone  is  one  of  the 
emerald  variety  is  it  not?" 

"An  emeralite,  madam." 

"And  the  sixth?" 

"Jade." 

"Has  it  any  other  name?" 

The  old  man  thought  deeply. 

"I  seem  to  remember  that  this  particular 
variety  is  called  in  Chinese  'Yu."f 

"Exactly.    And  the  next  is  onyx." 

"Certainly.  The  eighth  stone,  this  bit  of 
greenish  yellow,  I  am  in  some  doubt  about.  I 
shall  have  to  investigate  that  further.  The  ninth, 
however,  is  easy.  It  is  an  amethyst  and  the 
next  one  following  is  an  epidote  and  this  piece 
of  sparkling  blue  is  called  iolite.  The  red  stone 
is  of  course  a  rubellite,  and  the  last  one," — he 
stopped  and  thought — "the  name  escapes  me." 

"Perhaps  I  can  give  you  a  clue." 

"Everything  is  helpful,  madam.  What  do 
you  suggest?" 

"Something  that  begins  with  'N."! 

"Nephrite,  of  course, "  he  said.  "Now  we  have 
them  all  except  this  one."  He  laid  his  hand 
on  a  greenish  yellow  stone,  the  eighth  in  the 
circle.  "Perhaps  you  can  give  me  some  clue  to 
that." 


"The  Posy  of  a  Ring"  159 

"I  think  it  is  something  that  begins  with  *U," 
she  said  quickly. 

He  thought  deeply  but  his  memory  did  not 
serve  him. 

"If  madam  would  leave  the  bracelet  with  me  I 
would  search  and  make  sure." 

"I  couldn't  do  that,"  she  answered. 

"Well,  I  can  remember  the  stone  and — you  are 
stopping  at  the  Hamilton?" 

"  No.    I  have  engaged  '  Whileaway  Villa. ' ' 

"Oh,  indeed  I  know  it  well.  It  is  in  Warwick 
over  beyond  the  Belmont  and  you  are  Mrs.  John 
Warburton?" 

"I  am." 

The  old  man  bowed,  drew  a  pad  and  pencil 
toward  him  and  wrote  rapidly  a  description  of 
the  stone. 

"I  shall  send  you  the  name  of  it  this  afternoon, 
I  am  sure."  A  promise  which  he  fulfilled  later, 
informing  her  that  the  missing  stone  was  a  piece 
of  Utahlite. 

"Thank  you.  Since  you  are  writing  will  you 
write  down  the  names  of  the  first  stone,  idocrase, 
was  it  not,  and  the  others  that  you  have  identified?" 

"  I  will  write  them  all  down, "  he  said  taking  the 
bracelet  and  suiting  the  action  to  the  word. 

As  he  wrote  the  words  the  acrostic  was  as 
plain  to  him  as  it  was  to  her,  but  he  was  an  old 
man  and  a  discreet.  She  was  Mrs.  John  Warburton. 
He  knew  all  about  her.  The  leasing  of  "While- 
away" had  been  a  subject  of  great  insular  com- 


160          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

merit.  "R"  and  "N"  were  certainly  not  the 
initials  of  her  husband.  No  woman  would  be 
likely  to  send  such  a  bracelet  as  that.  Here 
was  mystery,  perhaps  scandal.  It  was  fortunate 
she  had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  gentleman. 
He  handed  the  list  to  her  with  the  bracelet. 

"To  what  extent  am  I  indebted  to  you,  sir, 
for  your  courtesy?" 

"To  no  extent,  madam.  It  was  a  pleasure  to 
serve  you  and  a  privilege  to  handle  so  unique  and 
beautiful  a  piece  of  work." 

"And  I  accept  your  gracious  service  in  the  same 
spirit  in  which  it  is  offered,  sir.  I  can  rely  on  your 
discretion?" 

"Assuredly,  madam." 

She  took  the  paper  and  the  bracelet  and  re- 
entered  her  carriage.  She  had  never  been  in 
Bermuda  before,  and  there  was  much  on  every 
hand  to  delight  the  eye  of  even  the  jaded  traveller. 
The  dazzling  white  coral  road  bordered  by  low 
white  walls  that  fairly  blazed  with  light,  the  tall 
palms,  the  broad-leaved  banana  trees,  the  gorgeous 
red  blossoms  of  the  hibiscus  mingling  with  huge 
oleanders  the  size  of  trees,  sometimes  reaching 
their  branches  over  the  road  and  covering  all 
with  rare  pink  splendour.  But  she  had  eyes  for 
nothing  but  the  bracelet. 

The  houses,  spotlessly  clean,  showing  every 
variety  of  delicate  colour  on  their  lime-washed 
coral  walls,  groups  of  tourists  in  their  gay  equi- 
pages, the  jaunty  soldiers,  the  smiling  negroes, 


"The  Posy  of  a  Ring"          161 

she  passed  them  all  by  as  an  idle  dream.  Her 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  paper.  "I  love  you," 
she  read  and  then  these  three  mysterious  letters 
«A"  "E"  "I"  followed  by  "R.  N." 

It  was  outrageous.  It  was  almost  an  insult 
that  he  should  have  sent  such  a  message  to  her 
on  her  wedding  day.  It  was  like  that  invasion 
of  her  modesty  at  Sorrento  which  she  had  resented 
so  fiercely.  The  fragrance  of  the  oleanders 
brought  back  that  night.  She  made  excuses  for 
him  now.  If  she  had  only  understood  then 
that  he  had  not  been  himself,  that  it  was  not  the 
real  man  who  had  laid  impious  hands  upon  her. 
If  she  had  only  waited,  if  she  had  not  been  so 
impatient,  if,  if 

At  last  her  carriage  was  rolled  down  the  long 
avenue  of  oleanders  to  the  house  which  Warburton 
had  rented  for  her,  to  which  he  had  sent  her  own 
servants,  which  showed  on  every  hand  his  prescient 
forethought  and  constant  care  for  her.  A  man 
with  the  weight  of  financial  policies  of  the  world 
upon  his  shoulders  thinking  about  her.  Her  only 
recognition  of  it  was  resentment. 

She  went  to  her  room  directly  and  dismissing 
her  maid  threw  herself  face  downward  on  the  bed, 
her  cheek  upon  her  arm,  the  hard  metal  of  the 
bracelet  pressed  into  the  soft  flesh  as  if  she  would 
fain  brand  the  message  upon  her  cheek.  She  had 
resented  another  touch  as  a  brand  and  lo,  here 
she  was  almost  striving  to  repeat  it.  Her  body 
shook  and  burned.  There  was  no  doubt  about 


162          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

it.  No  conventional  concealment  could  hide  it. 
She  loved  Neyland,  Neyland,  only  he.  And  she 
hated  Warburton. 

Was  there  any  way  to  freedom?  She  would 
be  alone  here  for  some  time.  She  could  think 
it  over.  She  must  have  happiness.  Maybe  she 
could  not  have  happiness  even  with .  Neyland. 
What  of  that?  She  would  at  least  have  him  and 
he  would  have  her.  She  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 
As  she  lay  there  the  sky  was  suddenly  overcast, 
the  rains  descended,  the  winds  blew  and  beat 
upon  the  house.  It  did  not  move  for  it  was 
founded  upon  rock.  The  house  of  her  affection 
was  founded  upon  the  sands.  Rain  was  falling 
upon  it.  The  wind  was  blowing  about  it.  It 
trembled  on  its  foundations. 


CHAPTER   XV 
"A-E-I" 

SHE  retired  early  and  for  the  second  time  in 
many  years  neglected  her  nightly  petitions,  the 
first  occasion  having  been  on  her  wedding  night. 
She  was  acutely  conscious  of  her  lack  but  because 
of  the  feelings  that  rioted  in  her  breast  she  could 
not  approach  her  God. 

The  next  few  days  passed  mechanically.  She 
denied  herself  to  all  visitors.  The  island  aristoc- 
racy was  anxious  to  pay  attention  to  the  young 
wife  of  the  great  money  magnate.  Some  of  her 
American  friends  and  acquaintances  were  stopping 
at  the  Hamilton,  the  Princess,  or  the  Belmont. 
They  called  at  once.  She  would  see  no  one. 

She  sat  for  long  hours  on  the  broad  veranda 
looking  out  over  the  exquisite  harbour.  It  did 
not  seem  to  her  that  for  beauty  and  charm,  for 
blueness  of  sea,  for  purity  of  air,  for  greenness  of 
shore,  for  variety  of  colour,  the  equal  of  that  islet 
dotted  arm  of  the  sea  existed  anywhere  on  earth. 
She  never  tired  of  following  the  great  sweep  of 
coast  line  from  the  navy  yard  far  away  upon  the 
rocky  point,  with  its  great  grey  ships  of  war 

163 


164         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

hard  by,  to  the  low  hills  opposite.  The  light  of 
it,  the  colour  of  it,  the  sparkle  of  it,  and  the  life  of 
it  entranced  her. 

She  was  content  to  sit  and  gaze  at  it  and  play 
with  the  bracelet  and  whisper  its  message  to  her 
heart  and  wonder  what  the  three  mysterious  letters 
meant.  It  was  more  beautiful  than  the  bay  of 
Naples  and  Sorrento,  she  decided,  but  he  was  not 
here  as  he  had  been  there.  Yet  he  spoke  to  her 
across  all  these  leagues  of  sea.  The  bitterness  of 
the  recollection  faded.  He  had  been  about  to  take 
her  into  his  arms  and  she  would  have  welcomed 
him  now. 

"  Madam, "  said  Dodson,  the  grave  and  dignified 
old  butler,  breaking  in  upon  her  reverie,  "there  is  a 
gentleman  in  the  hall  who  asks  to  see  you." 

Could  it  be  Richard  Neyland?  She  rose  to  her 
feet  and  stood  trembling,  steadying  herself  by  the 
chair,  the  colour  flooding  her  cheek. 

"Who  is  it?" 

"He  did  not  give  me  his  name,  madam,  he  said 
that  he  was  a  Priest  of  the  Church." 

The  light  went  out  of  her  eyes.  Her  heart  sank. 
She  sat  down  again. 

"  Did  you  tell  him  I  wish  to  see  no  one?" 

"Yes,  madam.  But  he  said  he  was  not  calling 
upon  you  socially  but  upon  a  matter  of  pressing 
importance  and  he  begs  you  to  accord  him  the 
honour  of  a  brief  interview." 

She  had  seen  no  one,  but  a  Priest  of  the  Church 
was  different.  She  had  been  all  her  life  a  devout 


"A-E-I"  165 

Churchwoman.  She  needed  the  Church  now  in 
the  turmoil  through  which  she  was  passing.  Per- 
haps it  would  be  well  to  see  this  man.  He  might 
be  one  to  whom  she  could  go  if  she  should  de- 
cide that  she  wanted  other  counsel  than  her 
affections. 

"Tell  him  I  will  see  him." 

"In  the  drawing-room,  madam?" 

"Here.     And  see  that  we  are  not  disturbed." 

In  a  few  moments  the  visitor  was  announced. 

"Father  Stewart-Smith,"  said  the  butler. 

Mrs.  Warburton  had  risen  to  receive  him.  She 
saw  a  lean  old  man  well  past  sixty,  brown  of  face 
and  weather-beaten,  with  a  fringe  of  white  hair 
around  his  bald  head.  He  had  a  hooked  nose, 
homely  but  aristocratic.  He  looked  at  her  through 
large  spectacles  behind  which  blue  eyes  that  had 
not  lost  the  fire  of  youth  twinkled  merrily.  His 
clean-shaven  face  showed  a  firm  mouth  between 
finely  chiselled  lips.  There  was  a  little  upturn  of 
the  curves  that  modified  the  firmness  with  a  touch 
of  genial  humour.  He  was  thin  and  spare  and 
from  beneath  his  round  collar  fell  the  rdbat  of 
a  Roman  Priest  although  English  and  Anglican 
Church  were  written  all  over  him — unmistakably 
so. 

He  bowed  over  her  extended  hand  with  all  the 
grace  of  a  courtier  of  the  old  regime. 

"Will  you  be  seated,  Father  Stewart-Smith?" 
she  said  as  the  butler  placed  a  chair  for  him  and  at 
a  nod  from  his  mistress  withdrew. 


i66         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"You  may  call  me,  Father  Smith  if  you  will," 
said  the  old  man.  ' '  Everybody  in  the  islands  does ; 
although  I  was  born  with  that  hyphenated  name 
and  therefore  have  it  on  my  cards,  no  one  ever 
uses  it.  You  are  Mrs.  John  Warburton?" 

"I  am.  You  have  matters  of  importance  you 
wish  to  present  to  me?" 

"Only  matters  of  importance  would  warrant  me 
in  insisting  upon  your  seeing  me  in  opposition  to 
your  desires  and  for  that  I  ask  your  pardon. " 

"I  grant  it  freely." 

There  was  something  so  infectiously  pleasant  in 
the  gentle  manner  of  this  aged  servant  of  God,  with 
its  exquisite  flavour  of  old  world  aristocracy 
commingled  with  the  eternal  democracy  of  the 
Church,  that  she  would  have  forgiven  him  any- 
thing. 

"I  understand  that  you  have  suffered  a  great 
loss,  the  greatest  perhaps,"  he  went  on  bowing  his 
acknowledgments,  "and  that  you  have  come  here 
f or  rest. " 

There  was  a  little  surprise  in  her  look,  which  he 
was  quick  enough  to  recognise. 

"You  see  we  get  the  New  York  papers  here," 
he  went  on,  "and  the  doings  of  the  great  are  set 
down  therein  with  minute  particularity.  Well, 
you  have  come  to  the  right  place.  Naturally 
this  is  as  near  heaven  as  any  spot  on  earth  could  be. 
I  can't  say  quite  as  much  of  it  spiritually,  I  regret, 
but  the  people  are  a  good  sort  after  all  and  I  am 
glad  to  minister  to  them. " 


"A-E-I"  167 

"I  do  not  see  how  they  could  fail  to  be  under 
your  leadership. ' ' 

And  'there  was  a  genuine  ring  in  her  voice  that 
pleased  the  old  man. 

"You  are  very  good,  "  he  said.  "With  the  help 
of  God  I  do  what  I  can.  And  it  is  about  that  I 
have  come  to  speak  to  you.  We  know  that  all 
Americans  are  rich,"  he  laughed,  "and  we  know 
that  the  wife  of  John  Warburton  is  the  richest  of 
all.  Frankly,  madam,  I  want  help.  I  might  go 
about  it  indirectly.  I  might  make  my  plea  at  the 
end  of  my  call  instead  of  at  the  beginning  but  I 
prefer  to  reverse  the  usual  custom.  I  am  a  plain, 
blunt  old  man.  If  my  call  should  be  distasteful  to 
you  now  that  you  know  my  errand  and  you  are  not 
disposed  to  help  me,  it  will  be  a  simple  matter  to 
say  so  and  I  shall  go  without  troubling  you  further." 

He  rose  and  bowed  before  her  ready  to  make 
good  his  words  at  the  slightest  sign  that  it  would 
please  her. 

' ' Sit  down,  Father  Smith, "  she  said.  "Tell  me 
in  what  way  you  want  help." 

"Before  I  do  that,"  he  answered,  resuming  his 
chair,  "may  I  venture  to  point  out  that  when  I  ask 
help  I  also  bring  it. " 

"I  don't  understand." 

"You  are  alone  here  in  deep  grief,"  his  hand 
went  out  in  graceful  gesture  toward  her  black 
dress.  "That  would  tell  me,  had  I  not  known, 
and  your  face  as  well.  Pardon  the  liberty  but  I  am 
a  Priest  of  your  own  faith." 


168         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"  Speak  on, "  said  the  woman. 

"It  is  not  good  for  you  to  be  alone. " 

* 'Society,"  she  began. 

"I  do  not  speak  of  society,  but  of  occupation. 
My  little  church  is  back  yonder  in  the  valley.  I 
shall  hope  to  see  you  at  God's  board  where  I 
dispense  His  hospitality  on  His  day. " 

She  bowed. 

"We  need  so  much.  I  will  give  you  in  return 
opportunities  to  do  things,  to  see  where  your  money 
goes,  to  spend  it  yourself.  Almost  everyone  likes 
that.  I  will  only  suggest  and  you  will  be  happier 
if  you  have  something  to  do.  You  know,"  he 
went  on,  not  giving  her  time  to  answer  and  looking 
far  away  across  the  harbour,  "sometimes  I  am 
heretic  enough  to  wonder  whether  the  primal 
curse  was  much  of  a  curse  after  all.  I  really 
think  it  was  a  blessing.  The  curses  of  men 
must  differ  from  the  curses  of  God.  There 
must  be  benedictions  in  His.  To  work,  to  be  of 
some  use," — he  stopped.  "But  it  is  Saturday 
and  I  must  not  preach  until  tomorrow.  You 
have  heard  me,  Mrs.  Warburton,  will  you  come 
and  see?" 

"I  will  and  I  will  help." 

"Thank  you." 

' '  No,  the  thanks  are  due  from  me  to  you.  Mean- 
while?" 

"I  want  nothing  now.  Not  until  you  have 
examined  and  your  own  judgment  has  decided. 
I  shall  see  you  at  church  tomorrow. " 


"A-E-I"  169 

"Tomorrow,"  she  said.  "What  are  the  hours 
of  the  services?" 

He  gave  them  to  her. 

"I  have  a  scattered  parish  and  minister  to  sev- 
eral congregations,  so  I  have  to  be  everywhere." 

"I  shall  be  at  the  early  service, "  she  answered. 

"It  is  quieter,  sweeter,  more  peaceful,  perhaps 
the  more  holy.  I  thank  you  that  you  have  per- 
mitted me  to  see  you  and  to  speak  to  you  and 
that  you  have  not  repulsed  me  as  so  many  do." 
He  rose  and  again  bowed  over  her  extended  hand. 
"Good-bye!" 

"Wait,  perhaps  you  can  serve  me  a  little  fur- 
ther." 

"In  what  way?     I  shall  only  be  too  glad." 

"Do  you  know  what  the  letters  A — E — I  stand 
for?" 

"A— E— I?" 

"Yes." 

"Are  they  three  separate  letters  indicating  three 
words  or " 

"I  don't  know." 

"Let  me  think.  A— E— I.  Ah,  I  have  it,"  he 
said  at  last  after  a  few  moments  of  deep  reflection. 
"They  form  a  Greek  word  which  stands  for  eter- 
nity. They  are  sometimes  used  in  what  Shakds- 
peare  calls  '  the  posy  of  a  ring. ' ' 

"Thank  you,  thank  you,"  she  said,  rising  and 
clasping  him  by  the  hand.  "You  have  helped 
me  more  than  you  can  dream." 

"The  answer  is  adequate  then?" 


1 70          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Perfectly." 

"And  I  shall  see  you  tomorrow." 

"Yes." 

He  was  gone.  The  sunshine  filled  the  harbour 
which  took  on  an  added  brilliance.  The  fragrance 
of  the  oleanders  was  sweeter  than  ever  before.  The 
whole  riddle  had  been  resolved.  She  had  his 
message: — "I  love  you  for  eternity — R.  N." 
And  where  was  John  Warburton  then?  She 
clasped  her  arm  with  the  bracelet  upon  it  near  her 
heart  and  stood  for  a  long  time  ecstatic,  and  then 
she  slowly  dropped  her  arm.  She  groped  vaguely 
for  a  resentment  which  she  should  have  entertained 
and  found  it  not. 

Yet  somehow  or  other  the  presence  of  that  holy 
man  of  God  seemed  to  bring  her  to  her  senses  in 
some  measure.  She  was  John  Warburton 's  wife. 
The  eternal  love  of  Richard  Neyland  could  not 
alter  that  fact.  Yet  she  was  in  a  tender  mood  and 
admitted  to  herself  that  she  was  glad  for  the  mes- 
sage. She  thought  more  kindly  of  the  world  and 
even  of  Warburton,  with  astonishing  inconsistency, 
than  ever  before.  Surely  the  consciousness  of 
Neyland 's  devotion  so  delicately  conveyed  should 
lift  her  up  to  sublime  heights.  It  was  just  a  word. 
Nothing  was  asked  of  her.  Such  love  should 
ennoble,  not  drag  down. 

She  had  promised  to  go  to  Communion  the  next 
morning.  By  as  stern  an  effort  of  self-sacrifice  as 
she  ever  made  she  took  the  bracelet  from  her  arm. 
She  went  into  the  house  and  laid  it  away,  locked  it 


"A-E-I"  171 

up.  She  was  minded  for  a  moment  to  throw  away 
the  key  of  the  casket  but  she  did  not.  Instead 
she  fastened  it  on  a  little  chain  she  wore  and 
dropped  the  piece  of  steel  within  her  bodice.  In 
her  exalted  mood  she  almost  made  up  her  mind 
when  she  went  back  to  Warburton  to  be  to  him  all 
that  he  would  fain  have  her  be. 

She  went  to  the  Communion  Service  the  next 
morning  and  joined  the  little  handful  of  worship- 
ping recipients  in  the  simple  old  parish  church.  She 
was  thankful  for  the  light  touch  of  the  old  Priest's 
hand  on  her  head  as  he  ministered  to  her  at  the  rail. 

She  was  a  clear-sighted  woman  with  a  much  more 
efficient  head  for  business  and  administration  than 
Father  Smith  had.  He  was  only  an  old  Saint. 
She  heard  him  with  avidity  the  next  morning  in  his 
study.  She  entered  into  all  his  plans.  Together 
they  arranged  great  things  and  because  of  that  she 
wrote  a  letter  to  her  husband,  formal  and  cold,  but 
if  he  had  known  that  she  had  not  intended  to  write 
at  all  he  might  have  appreciated  her  effort  at  its 
true  worth  instead  of  being  so  bitterly  disappointed 
at  the  contents  of  the  letter.  It  really  told  him 
nothing  save  that  she  had  met  this  old  Priest 
and  was  helping.  His  own  reply  briefly  congratu- 
lated her  on  her  good  fortune  and  placed  at  her 
disposal  all  that  she  could  ask,  and  that  annoyed 
her  for  what  she  had  done  and  planned  to  do  fur- 
ther was  out  of  her  own  very  considerable  fortune, 
not  his. 

She  did  not  take  the  bracelet  out  again  although 


172         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

the  pressure  of  the  little  bar  of  steel  against  her 
breast  kept  it  fresh  in  her  memory.  She  wore  the 
key  night  and  day.  Friends  and  strangers  finally 
ceased  to  call  upon  her.  She  was  left  alone  with 
the  work  and  with  Father  Smith  for  her  only  friend. 
A  fictitious  peace  came  over  her  soul,  a  simulacrum 
of  happiness  filled  her  heart.  She  would  not  allow 
herself  to  admit  that  she  was  simply  putting  aside 
decisions  and  in  all  probability  when  they  had  to 
be  made  she  would  find  herself  really  unchanged. 
Removed  from  the  necessity  of  determination  and 
from  temptation  she  lived  in  a  fool's  paradise, 
content,  until  one  day  she  heard  a  step  in  the  hall 
that  she  recognized. 

She  sat  up  in  the  chair  in  which  she  had  been 
reclining,  listening  with  terror  in  her  heart.  She 
did  not  turn  her  head,  no,  not  even  when  a  hand 
was  laid  lightly  upon  her  shoulder  although  she 
knew  the  hand  and  recognized  the  touch. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

OVERHEARD  IN  THE  DUSK 

RICHARD  NEYLAND  could  not  fight  a  uniformly 
successful  battle.  Ancestral  tendencies  cherished 
and  exercised  in  descendants  are  not  overcome 
without  hard  fighting.  Certain  of  Neyland's  en- 
vironment could  not  understand  what  he  was 
trying  to  achieve,  and  with  laughter  and  jeers  they 
encouraged  him  to  fail.  Of  these  Billy  Alton  was 
chief,  with  that  cheerful  little  divorcee,  his  wife,  a 
good  second.  Sometimes  it  seemed  to  those  who 
really  loved  Neyland  that  these  malign  influences 
were  more  potent  than  those  that  worked  for  good 
about  the  young  man.  Old  Colonel  Tayloe  found 
him  one  day  at  the  club  in  a  state  of  profound 
nervous  depression.  He  had  failed  again  and  was 
just  recovering.  It  was  not  the  first  time  that 
Neyland  had  failed  and  this  time  he  had  gone  down 
to  the  depths.  To  come  to  the  surface  again  was 
terribly  hard,  the  harder  because  in  his  saner  moods 
he  realized  his  degradation. 

"I  guess  I'll  give  it  up,"  he  said  desperately 
to  Colonel  Tayloe,  "if  she  were  my  wife  I  might 
manage  it. " 

173 


174          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

He  did  not  mention  any  names  but  the  Colonel 
knew,  of  course,  to  whom  he  referred  and  he  pitied 
him  the  more  for  the  weakness  of  that  confession, 
for  the  man  who  can  not  do  it  for  his  manhood 
rarely  achieves  it  for  a  woman. 

"Sometimes  I  believe  the  best  thing  will  be  to 
end  it  all.  When  I  think  of  where  I  was  last  week 
and  what  I  did  and  then  think  of  her — my  God! 
Colonel,  I  don't  believe  there  is  any  God  after  all. " 

"  My  boy, "  said  the  Colonel.  "  Don't  blame  it 
on  God.  It's  your  fault,  not  His.  Now  you  know 
I'm  not  one  to  utter  flattering  words,  to  cry  peace 
when  there  is  no  peace,  but  I've  watched  you.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  all  that  you  say  about  last 
week  is  true,  in  fact  I've  heard  something  of  it. 
These  things  can't  be  kept  secret,  but  there  is  this 
to  encourage  you.  In  the  first  place  you  are 
heartily  ashamed  of  it,  so  ashamed  that  you  want 
to  die,  to  take  the  coward's  way  to  get  out  of  it." 

"Right,"  said  the  man  bitterly. 

"In  the  second  place,  these  things  before  were  a 
sort  of  a  continuous  performance,  weren't  they?" 

"I  suppose  so." 

"Now  they  are  intermittent." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  it?" 

"Much.  I  suppose  you  will  come  a  cropper 
again,"  continued  the  practical  old  man,  "but 
I'm  hoping  it  will  be  a  long  time  before  you  do, 
and  the  next  time  will  be  still  longer,  and  by  and 
by  it  will  be  so  long  that  there  won't  be  any  next 
time. " 


Overheard  in  the  Dusk          175 

"I'd  give  my  heart's  blood  if  it  were  true." 

"Make  it  true.  You  can't  break  off  short  in- 
herited and  acquired  habits  like  yours  especially 
when  you  have  weakened  your  will  power  as  you 
have.  It  has  got  to  be  done  by  degrees  and  you 
must  have  help. " 

"Some  don't  help." 

"I  know,"  said  the  Colonel.  "Damn  those 
Altons  and  their  kind.  Yet  they  play  a  necessary 
part,  perhaps.  It  is  not  by  sequestering  yourself 
that  you  conquer.  You've  got  to  face  temptation 
as  you  face  an  enemy  and  beat  it  down  before  you 
are  through  with  it. " 

"I  suppose  so  but  every  time  I  fail  I  feel  it 
worse. " 

"That's  a  sure  sign  that  you  are  doing  better. 
Don't  give  up.  Keep  everlastingly  at  it  for  the 
sake  of  your  manhood." 

"For  her  sake,"  cried  the  poor  tortured  man. 

"Well,  for  her  sake  then,"  said  the  Colonel 
grimly.  "She  is  another  man's  wife  and  can  be 
nothing  to  you,  but  if  you  choose  to  regard  her  as 
an  inspiration  it  won't  do  her  any  harm  and  it  may 
help  you.  Meanwhile  you're  in  no  condition  to  be 
left  alone,  so  I'm  going  to  take  you  home  with  me. " 

"I'm  not  fit  to  go  to  your  home." 

"Perhaps  not  but  you're  going." 

"But  your  daughter." 

"It  won't  hurt  her.  She  and  the  Duke  are 
madly  in  love  with  each  other  and  they  are  together 
all  the  time  anyway,  so  you  are  coming  with  me 


176         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

to  have  a  good  rest  and  get  your  balance 
again." 

"People  will  talk  if  you  take  me.     I  can't  go." 

"Damn  'em,  say  I,"  burst  out  the  Colonel, 
"let  'em  talk.  Do  you  suppose  I  care.  Come 
along.  I  believe  we  aren't  giving  any  functions. 
You  can  be  quite  alone. " 

"But  the  Duke  and  Miss  Rose?" 

"Rose  always  liked  you  and  the  Duke  likes  you 
too.  You  are  the  only  man  who  ever  got  the  better 
of  him  with  a  sword !  He  doesn't  understand  yet 
how  you  did  it,  and  he  has  a  certain  respect  for  you 
on  that  account.  You'll  have  no  trouble  with 
him." 

And  with  many  other  arguments  the  old  man 
overbore  the  other  man's  objections  and  car- 
ried him  off  home.  With  rare  self-denial,  for  the 
bitterly  repentent,  intensely  humiliated,  and  self- 
reproachful  young  man  was  no  pleasant  compan- 
ion for  Colonel  Tayloe,  the  latter  devoted  himself 
to  Neyland.  He  prescribed  a  strict  regimen  and 
regular  hours  and  in  the  pleasant  atmosphere 
of  the  Colonel's  apartment  Neyland  gradually 
recovered  his  equipoise.  Rose,  who  had  all  the 
good  woman's  ready  compassion  for  the  repentant 
rake,  was  gentleness  itself.  The  Duke  with  the 
graceful  courtesy  and  tact  of  his  race  was  unexcep- 
tionable in  his  bearing  toward  him.  Neyland  was 
most  grateful  to  them  all. 

The  Duke  offered  to  teach  Neyland  the  use  of 
the  sword,  laughingly  exclaiming  that  he  could  not 


Overheard  in  the  Dusk  177 

understand  how  the  latter  had  ever  run  him 
through  in  that  encounter,  and  although  the 
trembling,  nervous  American  was  far  from  his  best 
the  vigorous  passages  at  arms  with  the  little 
Italian  helped  him  to  become  his  normal  self, 
to  acquire  again  some  self-respect,  and  to  brace 
himself  up  for  another  try  with  the  world,  the 
flesh,  and  the  devil  for  his  manhood  and  his  ideal. 
But  these  three  powerful  agencies  were  not  done 
with  him.  They  never  would  be. 

One  night  he  had  gone  into  the  library  to  seek 
diversion  among  the  Colonel's  books  and  tired  out 
he  had  fallen  asleep  in  a  big  chair  which  screened 
him  from  observation.  Into  the  library  came  the 
Duke  and  Rose  fresh  from  a  canter  in  the  park. 
They  were  utterly  unsuspicious  that  any  one 
was  in  the  dimly  lighted  room.  It  was  dusk  and 
they  paused  a  moment  there  before  separating 
to  dress  for  dinner. 

"I  sometimes  doubt,  carissima  mia,"  said 
the  Duke  fondly,  "whether  you  can  love  me  as 
I  love  you.  In  Europe  we  sometimes  arrange 
marriages  where  there  is  no  love  and  generally 
they  turn  out  well,  but  here  in  America  you 
are  different.  If  you  don't  love  there  is  no 
happiness." 

"You  need  not  be  afraid  for  me,"  said  Rose. 

She  went  up  to  him  and  bent  her  head.  The 
little  Duke  stood  very  straight  and  kissed  her 
and  when  his  arm  went  around  her  waist  hers  went 
around  his  neck. 


178         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"  I  wouldn't  care  if  you  were  only  a  private  in 
your  regiment, "  she  whispered. 

"I  wish  I  were  taller,  my  Rose,"  sighed  the 
Duke. 

"And  that  makes  no  difference  either.  You 
are  the  finest  gentleman  I  know,  you  and  my 
father.  I  wouldn't  marry  you  if  I  didn't  love  you. 
I  know  what  loveless  marriages  are.  There's 
Chrissey  de  Selden " 

And  that  name  restored  the  bewildered  listener 
already  half  awakened  by  the  voices,  to  full 
consciousness.  He  had  been  roused  from  his  sleep 
by  their  words. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  the  Duke. 

"She  doesn't  love  her  husband.  She  hates 
him.  She  is  away  from  him  now." 

"May  God  pity  her!" 

"May  He  indeed!" 

"It  is  as  I  say,  a  loveless  marriage  is — what  you 
call  it? — an  inferno." 

"Yes,  and  to  make  it  worse  she  loves 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Neyland  thoroughly 
awake  at  last,  rising  to  his  feet  and  coming  in- 
stantly forward.  "  I  was  asleep,  I  didn't  hear  you 
come  in.  I  have  just  this  moment  awakened. " 

Rose  Tayloe  looked  at  him  intently,  meaningly. 
It  was  fortunate  for  him  that  the  room  was  quite 
dark.  He  was  ashamed  that  he  had  listened  so 
long,  yet  he  could  not  have  spoken  before  and  he 
was  glad  at  what  he  heard. 

'What  have  you  heard?"  she  asked. 


Overheard  in  the  Dusk  179 


"Nothing."  He  could  not  bear  to  admit  that 
he  had  heard  everything.  "Just  voices  and — 

"I  am  sorry  we  disturbed  you,"  said  the  Duke. 

"I'm  glad  you  did.     It  must  be  late. " 

"We  have  barely  time  to  dress  for  dinner," 
said  Rose  relieved  at  his  assurance. 

She  would  not  have  had  any  one  .else  learn  from 
her  what  she  had  just  said  to  the  Duke  for  any- 
thing. 

"You  will  excuse  me,  I'm  sure,"  said  Neyland 
bowing  and  passing  out. 

"Oh,  do  you  think  he  heard?"  asked  the  girl  as 
the  lovers  were  left  alone. 

"He  said  not.  You  spoke  softly.  I  love  that 
soft  low  voice  of  yours.  He  is  a  man  of  honour. 
We  may  rest  assured,  I  think." 

"I  wouldn't  have  him  know  for  the  world.  I 
had  almost  pronounced  his  name." 

"Does  she  love  him?" 

"Yes." 

"In  spite  of  that  night  at  Sorrento?" 

"In  spite  of  everything." 

"And  Warburton  is  so  fine  a  man." 

"What  does  that  matter  when  she  loves  Mr. 
Neyland?" 

"I  thank  God,"  said  the  little  Duke,  "that  it  is 

not  I  she  loves  but  that  you  and  I "  After 

the  necessary  and  inevitable  sequence  to  these 
words  he  comforted  her  further.  "I  am  sure  he 
did  not  hear  but  if  you  like  I  will  ask  him. " 

"By  no  means,"  answered  the  girl,  "for  if  he 


180         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

did  not  it  would  make  him  think  that  we  had 
spoken  about  him.  He  is  extremely  sensitive  in 
his  present  condition  and  I  wouldn't  hurt  him 
for  the  world." 

"The  least  said  the  soonest  mended  is  your 
proverb,  is  it  not?  And  we  have  one  like  it  in 
our  land,  which  will  be  your  land,  ma  donna. 
We  will  say  nothing,  he  is  a  man  of  honour,  I  am 
sure. " 

Yes,  Neyland  was  a  man  of  honour  but  he  had 
heard.  He  went  to  his  room  with  the  words 
ringing  in  his  ears.  She  did  not  love  her  husband. 
She  hated  him.  She  loved  someone  else.  Was 
he  that  someone? 

He  was  a  different  man  that  night  at  dinner. 
His  moodiness,  his  silence,  his  humiliation  were 
gone.  He  sparkled  with  wit  and  humour  and 
joyousness,  so  much  so  that  they  looked  at  him 
rather  strangely  and  he  caught  the  inquiry  in 
their  glances. 

"You  are  all  good  friends,"  he  said  at  last,  "I 
assure  you  that  I  am  quite  myself" — for  the  first 
time  in  many  days,  he  might  have  added — "and 
tomorrow,  of  your  courtesy,  with  thanks  to  you, 
Colonel  Tayloe,  and  to  you,  dear  Miss  Rose, 
and  to  you,  Duke,  I  go  back  into  the  world 
again. " 

He  lifted  up  his  hands  in  a  gesture  of  freedom 
as  he  spoke  and  they  thought  he  had  never  looked 
so  well.  It  was  because  of  what  he  had  heard  that 
night  and  the  resolution  that  he  had  taken  that  his 


Overheard  in  the  Dusk  181 

hand  fell  lightly  upon  Chrissey  Warburton's 
shoulder  as  he  came  unannounced  to  the  veranda  at 
"Whileaway"  and  surprised  her  looking  thought- 
fully out  over  the  sea. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

AND  THUS  HE   CAME 

AND  she  was  driven  from  that  fool's  paradise  on 
the  instant  by  the  touch  of  a  man's  hand.  That 
dream  was  broken.  Her  resolutions  were  shattered. 
An  angel  with  the  flaming  sword  of  passion  barred 
the  way  of  return.  Did  Adam  go  first  through  the 
gate  of  Eden  to  be  followed  by  Eve  reluctant, 
clinging  to  her  place,  fain  not  to  be  dispossessed;  or 
did  she  lead,  or  did  they  go  out  hand  in  hand? 

How  the  little  key  burned  against  her  heart  as 
she  confronted  him !  The  message  of  the  bracelet 
seemed  to  fall  from  lips  that  made  no  movement 
and  gave  forth  no  sound.  It  was  she  who  spoke 
after  the  long  pause. 

"You!" 

"Yes,"  he  said  and  until  then  she  could  hardly 
believe  that  he  was  real. 

"And  why  have  you  come?" 

"To  see  you,  just  to  see  you." 

She  bit  her  lip  and  stared  at  him,  her  bosom 
rising  and  falling  under  the  key.  Her  body  shook 
as  if  the  ground  were  trembling  beneath  her  feet. 
'But  you  should  not  have  come.  I  put  you 
182 


it- 


And  Thus  He  Came  183 

out  of  my  life.  I  am  married  to  John  Warburton 
and " 

"But  you  don't  love  him." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

"Never  mind  how,  and  you  don't  deny  it. 
You  hate  him." 

"Did  Rose  Tayloe  tell  you?" 

"  Miss  Tayloe  is  the  soul  of  honour.  She  would 
not  betray  you  for  her  life." 

"But  how?" 

"  It  is  enough  that  it  is  true. " 

"How  dare  you  say  that?"  she  cried,  fighting 
desperately  a  losing  battle. 

"If  it  were  not  true  I  would  not  dare  and  you 
would  not  listen.  I  repeat,  you  don't  love  him. 
Have  you  ever  been  his  wife?  In  spite  of  all  that 
I  am,  all  that  I  have  done — I  was  almost  afraid 
to  touch  you  a  moment  since " 

"You  do  well  to  remember." 

But  he  brushed  her  words  away. 

"You  love  me  and  I " 

"Don't  say  it." 

"I  am  yours  body  and  soul." 

"We  are  parted  forever,  absolutely." 

"  No.  I  am  here  to  claim  you,  to  take  you  from 
him.  It  is  my  right.  Love  is  king.  I  know  my 
own  unworthiness.  I  have  tried  since  I  saw  you. 
Oh,  God,  how  I  have  tried,  and  I  have  failed 
twice.  I  was  trying  because  you  asked  me  but 
with  you  I  conquer.  You  are  unhappy,  miser- 
able." 


184         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I  am  a  wife." 

"In  name  only." 

"  By  the  laws  of  God  and  man. " 

"We  can  break  the  tie." 

"You  mean?" 

"Divorce.  You  should  never  have  married 
him.  You  would  be  happier  with  me,  wretched 
man  that  I  am,  not  only  because  I  love  you, — I 
suppose  Warburton  loves  you,  too. " 

"Yes." 

"In  his  cold,  business-like  way,  but  because 
you  love  me.  If  you  loved  him  you  would  not  be 
here.  Did  you  read  the  message  of  the  bracelet? 
I  hoped  you  might  be  wearing  it.  I  sent  it  to  you 
that  even  in  his  arms  I  might  speak  to  you. " 

"I  read  it." 

"Where  is  it?" 

"In  my  jewel  case." 

"And  you  could  put  it  there?"  he  said,  dis- 
appointment in  his  face  and  voice. 

Her  hand  fumbled  at  her  neck.  She  drew  forth 
the  little  chain,  the  steel  key  warm  from  its 
contact. 

"I  carry  the  key  next  to  my  heart." 

As  he  bent  forward  she  drew  back. 

"  Don't  be  afraid  of  me, "  he  cried.  "  I  wouldn't 
touch  you  until — unless " 

He  seized  the  chain  and  placed  his  lips  upon  the 
key,  which  seemed  to  breathe  of  her. 

"You  understand,  until  I  have  the  right  I  shall 
not  lay  my  finger  upon  you.  I  should  not  have 


And  Thus  He  Came  185 

touched  you  a  moment  since.     I  shall  not  again. " 

"You  must  go  back." 

"Of  course,  but  not  until  you  have  told  me  the 
truth  and  until  we  have  arranged  what  is  to  be  done 
to  give  you  your  freedom  and  the  chance  of  the 
happiness  which  is  your  right.  That  you  should 
be  chained  to  this  man  is  monstrous,  unthinkable; 
that  you  give  yourself  to  him,  hating  him  and 
loving  me " 

"I  do  not  contemplate  that." 

"  Rather  than  that  I  would  kill  him  with  my  own 
hands." 

"  Not  that.  I  wouldn't  have  him  hurt.  He  has 
been  kindness  itself  to  me." 

"But  you  don't  love  him." 

"No." 

The  confession  was  wrung  from  her  at  last. 
Neyland  had  scarcely  eaten  since  the  hour  he  had 
heard  Rose  Tayloe's  inadvertent  admission.  And 
he  had  drunk  nothing.  His  physical  strength, 
undermined  by  his  recent  excesses,  was  unequal 
to  the  strain.  He  sank  down  in  the  nearest  chair, 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  leaned  his  head 
against  the  railing.  Although  he  had  been  sure 
her  admission  was  too  much  for  him  and  a  nervous 
trembling  seized  him. 

"  Don't  give  way  like  that, "  she  said,  laying  her 
hand  on  his  shoulder.  "I'm  not  the  first  wife  who 
doesn't  love  her  husband." 

"But  you  are  the  only  one  that  I  love  and  the 
only  one  that  loves  me. "  Then  he  lifted  his  head 


186          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

and  mastered  his  emotions.  "I'll  be  strong,  I  can 
be  strong  for  you,  in  no  other  way  and  for  no  other 
reason.  Meanwhile  I  have  arranged  my  affairs. 
No  one  knows  of  my  absence.  I  shall  be  here  for 
two  weeks  at  least.  We  shall  have  time  to  talk 
over  things,  to  settle  things,  to  make  our  plans 
for  the  new  life  that  is  coming." 

"Yes,"  said  the  woman,  "but  you  must  leave 
me  free  meanwhile.  I  depend  upon  you.  If  I 
followed  my  own  heart, "  she  yielded  her  hands  to 
him,  the  colour  flaming  in  her  face.  He  under- 
stood. He  took  the  hands  that  were  proffered 
and  kissed  them.  "I  did  not  dream,"  she  whis- 
pered, "as  I  watched  the  steamer  thread  its  way 
through  the  islands  yonder  that  it  was  bringing 
you  to  me.  Is  it  happiness  that  has  come?  The 
pain  is  so  exquisite  here,"  she  continued,  with- 
drawing her  hand  and  laying  it  upon  her  heart, 
"  that  I  am  fain  to  believe  that  it  is " 

"And  I  shall  see  you?" 

"Tomorrow  at  this  hour." 

"Why  not  tonight?" 

"  No.     In  the  morning. " 

"As  you  wish.  Everything  with  me  shall  be 
always  as  you  wish, "  he  replied,  turning  away  with 
many  a  backward  glance  at  the  slender  little  figure 
standing  by  the  balustrade  looking  out  over  the 
magic  and  the  mystery  of  the  mighty  deep  that  lay 
before  her. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
"LEAD  us  NOT  INTO  TEMPTATION" 

"FATHER  SMITH,"  asked  the  woman  in  the 
quiet  of  the  old  priest's  meagrely  furnished,  book- 
adorned  study  later  in  the  afternoon,  "do  you 
hear  confessions?" 

"  It  is  part  of  the  duty  of  a  Priest  of  the  Church. 
I  do  not  require  it  but  when  burdened  souls  come  to 
me  I  am  glad  to  be  made  the  confidant  of  their 
troubles  and  to  help  them  as  God  gives  me  the 
power.  Every  Saturday  at  suitable  hours  I  pass  a 
certain  time  in  a  confessional  in  the  church  yonder. 
Should  you  wish  to  come  there " 

"No,  I  do  not  ask  ecclesiastical  absolution.  I 
seek  the  advice  of  a  friend." 

"You  have  shown  yourself  the  friend  of  my 
friends,  the  poor,  dear  lady,  and  all  that  I  have  is 
at  your  service. " 

He  led  her  to  a  seat  near  the  window  and  con- 
siderately placed  her  so  that  her  face  was  in  the 
shadow  lest  she  should  be  embarrassed  by  the  light. 
And  lest  he  should  be  tempted  to  scrutinize  her  he 
turned  his  face  away  a  little  and  looked  up  to  the 
great  ivory  and  ebony  Crucifix  hanging  on  the  wall 

187 


i88         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

above  his  prie-dieu.  As  was  his  custom  in  his 
study  and  about  the  church  he  wore  his  cassock. 
He  was  a  High  Churchman,  albeit  his  services  were 
of  the  simplest  character.  He  took  himself  in  his 
official  position  very  seriously,  humble  before  God 
and  gentle  with  men,  yet  he  did  not  fail  to  re- 
member to  emphasize  the  greatness  of  his  embas- 
sage  on  occasion.  Skilled  as  he  was  in  reading 
character  he  realized  that  no  ordinary  trouble 
would  cause  a  woman  like  Mrs.  Warburton  such 
intense  agitation. 

She  had  been  gaining  in  strength  during  the  two 
weeks  that  had  passed  but  on  that  day  she  looked 
more  haggard  and  distraught  than  when  he  had 
first  seen  her. 

"My  daughter,"  he  began,  breaking  the  long 
pause,  "speak  without  hesitation  and  without 
reserve.  No  one  hears  you  but  He. "  He  lifted 
his  hand  toward  the  Crucifix — "and  I  His  humble 
minister. " 

"You  know  nothing  of  my  history." 

"Nothing,  save  that  you  are  the  wife  of  John 
Warburton. " 

"I  belong  to  one  of  the  oldest  and  proudest 
families  in  New  York." 

"I  can  well  believe  that." 

"My  father  died  and  left  me  to  the  guardian- 
ship of  Mr.  Warburton,  who  is  nearly  twenty  years 
older  than  I.  Mr.  Warburton  proved  himself  a 
faithful  and  capable  guardian.  My  mother  super- 
vised my  education.  When  the  time  came  I  was 


"Lead  Us  Not  Into  Temptation"    189 

launched  in  society  under  the  most  favourable 
auspices.  I  am  not  poor.  I  had  suitors  without 
number  and  some  of  them  cared  for  me  rather  than 
for  my  possessions." 

The  old  man  smiled  at  her  as  if  to  say  he  could 
easily  understand  that,  but  he  did  not  speak.  It 
was  better  that  she  should  tell  her  story  without 
interruption.  He  wondered  what  was  coming. 

"I  cared  for  but  one  of  them.  One  night  at 
Sorrento  he  told  me  that  he  loved  me.  1  was 
ready  to  give  myself  to  him  but — he  had  a — a — • 
failing."  She  would  fain  not  be  disloyal  to  her 
lover  and  it  was  hard  to  go  on.  She  had  to  force 
herself  to  speak.  "He  saw  that  I  returned  his 
affection  when  he  spoke  to  me,  but  he  was  not 
master  of  himself  and  he — he — laid  his  hand  upon 
— me.  It  was  after  a  dinner.  You  understand?" 
she  asked  crimsoning. 

The  Priest  nodded  but  made  no  answer. 

"I  thrust  him  from  me.  He  fell,  his  head  struck 
the  stone  of  the  terrace,  he  was  unconscious. 
There  was  another  suitor,  an  Italian.  Without 
my  authority  he  resented  it  and  there  was  a  duel. 
By  some  extraordinary  mischance  the  Duke  was 
wounded;  Mr.  Neyland, "  she  went  on  uncon- 
sciously— she  had  not  used  his  name  before — 
"went  away.  We  knew  there  would  be  scandal. 
On  the  ship  coming  home  Mr.  Warburton  asked 
me  to  marry  him  and  I  said  yes.  He  had  loved  me 
ever  since  I  had  become  a  woman,  but  because  he 
was  so  much  older  than  I,  he  had  stood  aside  and 


190         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

waited,  but  when  I  thrust  Mr.  Xeyland  away  and 
dismissed  him  he  took  heart  and  made  his  appeal. 
He  doesn't  know  to  this  day  what  Mr.  Xeyland  did 
or  he  would  have  killed  him.  And  so  I  said  yes. 
It  seemed  like  a  haven  of  refuge  until  we  were 
married.  On  our  wedding  night  I  realized" — 
her  voice  sank  to  a  low  whisper — "the  obligations 
of  my  position — and  I  begged  him  to  leave  me 
free" — she  hesitated.  The  room  was  terribly 
still.  "He  did  so." 

There  was  a  long  pause  but  the  Priest  did  not 
break  it.  His  time  was  not  yet.  She  was  think- 
ing about  that  night. 

"The  next  day  my  mother  died,"  she  resumed 
at  last.  "I  fell  ill.  The  doctor  said  I  must  have 
a  change,  a  rest,  and  so  I  came  here.  This  morn- 
ing there  came  to  me  the  man  I  do  love,  Richard 
Neyland,  the  man  who  insulted  me  at  Sorrento,  but 
I  have  forgiven  him.  I  could  forgive  him  every- 
thing. He  had  discovered  that  I  do  not  love  my 
husband  and  that  I  do  love  him.  He  wants  me  to 
get  a  divorce  and  many  him,  and  so  I  come  to  you. 
What  shall  I  do?" 

"For  better,  for  worse,1'  said  the  Priest  softly, 
"for  richer,  for  poorer,  in  sicktiess  and  in  health,  to 
love,  cherish,  and  to  obey " 

•'Don't  say  that." 

"  Until  death  us  do  part. " 

"Those  words  mean  nothing  to  me  now." 

"According  to  God's  holy  ordinance,"  the  old  man 
went  on  with  smooth,  soft,  quiet  relentlessness. 


"Lead  Us  Not  Into  Temptation"    191 

"  I  do  not  think  God  had  anything  to  do  with  it, " 
said  the  woman.  "That  is  the  point,  He  couldn't 
want  me  to  be  so  unhappy. " 

"Do  you  remember  the  day  I  met  you, "con- 
tinued the  old  man,  "and  you  asked  me  the  mean- 
ing of  certain  letters,  '  A-E-I,'  and  I  told  you  they 
meant  forever,  eternity?  Well,  that  is  what  your 
marriage  was,  at  least  until  death  breaks  the  bond, 
although  in  my  thought  perhaps  not  even  then. 
'A-E-I,'  forever." 

It  was  unfortunate  that  those  were  Neyland's 
words,  not  Warburton's. 

"I  tell  you  I  cannot.     I  will  not  be  his  wife." 

"Why  not?    What  has  he  done?" 

"He  is  perfect,  flawless,  generosity,  kindness, 
restraint,  everything,  but  I  do  not  love  him  and 
when  I  think  of  being  his  wife  I  hate  him. " 

"And  this  other  man " 

"Ah!" 

"Is  he  worthy?" 

"No,  I  suppose  not.  What  has  worthiness  to  do 
with  it?  I  love  him.  I  want  him  and  he  wants 
me.  Happiness!  I  want  that  too.  I  am  so 
young.  Surely  there  is  no  law  of  God  or  man  that 
would  deny  me  my  chance." 

"I  do  not  know  that  we  are  put  here  to  achieve 
happiness.  I  do  not  know  that  happiness  is  the 
end  and  aim  of  life, "  returned  the  old  man.  "Ah, 
that  is  hard  doctrine  for  the  young.  It  is  difficult 
for  you  to  accept.  Youth  is  always  an  hedonist. 
Modern  society  is  epicurean.  But  you  are  not 


192         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

asking  me  for  the  opinion  of  society.  No  one 
knows  how  thoroughly  futile  and  worthless  that 
judgment  is  better  than  yourself,  who  have 
been  a  part  of  it.  You  are  asking  me  what  Holy 
Church  says.  I  speak  with  the  voice  of  God. 
'Whom  God  hath  joined  together  let  no  man  put 
asunder! ' ' 

He  rose  and  extended  his  hand  to  her,  a  very 
different  figure  from  the  gentle,  deferential  friend 
of  other  days.  And  she  shrank  away  from  him, 
putting  up  a  protesting  hand  herself. 

"You  have  entered  into  the  relationship  of  your 
own  free  will  and  according  to  your  own  showing 
your  husband  has  given  you  no  reason  for  repudi- 
ating that  relationship,"  he  continued,  his  voice 
rising.  "You  cannot  even  plead  incompatibility 
of  temper,  merely  a  girl's  passion  for  a  man  who 
by  her  own  confession  is  unworthy  of  her.  From 
a  material  point  of  view  there  is  no  promise  of 
happiness  in  such  a  union  even  were  it  sanctioned 
by  the  Church  as  well  as  the  State.  You  cannot 
do  this  thing.  I  have  offered  you  the  Body  and 
Blood  of  Christ  and  you  have  taken  it  at  His 
table.  If  you  do  this  thing  you  can  receive  that 
no  more.  God  may  forgive  but  the  Church  which 
is  His  representative  upon  earth,  shuts  you  out, 
or  rather  you  shut  yourself  out.  You  must  not  do 
this  thing. " 

"I  suffer  so." 

"'Is  it  nothing  to  you,'"  said  the  priest  throw- 
ing,his  hand  up  to  the  Crucifix  again,  "  'all  ye  that 


"Lead  Us  Not  Into  Temptation"    193 

pass  by?1  We  are  perfected  through  suffering. 
1  Without  the  shedding  of  blood  there  is  no  remission 
of  sins. '  If  you  should  do  this  you  would  break 
your  husband's  heart.  You  might  drive  him  to 
perdition. " 

"And  if  I  do  not  I  break  the  other  man's  heart. " 
"Not  so.  If  you  do  this,  if  you  carry  out  your 
purpose  and  enter  into  an  alliance  with  this  man 
you  will  be  living  in  sin  with  a  man  who  is  weak 
already.  You  will  both  of  you  go  down  into  the 
depths  and  as  you  are  the  stronger  the  fault  will  be 
more  yours  than  his.  Upon  your  soul  will  be  laid 
the  burden  of  three  souls, — your  husband's,  this 
man's,  and  your  own.  Dear  lady,"  said  the  old 
man,  suddenly  changing  his  tactics  and  coming  over 
toward  her  where  she  sat  with  bowed  head  and 
clasped  hands,  and  as  he  had  done  at  that  first 
communion  he  laid  his  thin  hand  upon  her  head. 
The  rectory  was  but  a  little  distance  from  her  house 
and  she  had  come  down  the  road  and  across  the 
fields  without  hat  or  wrap.  "I  feel  for  you.  Con- 
fession for  confession.  I  have  never  told  a  soul 
before,  but  there  was  a  woman  once.  She  belonged 
to  someone  else,  yet  her  heart  was  mine  and  she 
would  have  gone  with  me.  I  was  a  young  soldier. 
I  thank  God  that  I  haven't  the  damnation  of  that 
woman's  soul  upon  my  shoulders  with  my  other 
burdens.  I  thank  God  that  He  called  me  to  be 
His  minister,  that  I  became  a  soldier  of  the  cross, 
and  you  will  thank  God,  too,  if  you  resist  this 
temptation. " 
ia 


194          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"God  help  me!"  said  the  woman  brokenly. 
"I  cannot." 

"Every  hour  I  shall  pray  that  you  may  grow  in 
strength,  that  you  may  be  purified  even  as  by 
fire.  I  have  hope,  I  have  trust,  I  know  that  you 
will  be  victor  in  the  strife." 

She  shook  her  head,  her  eyes  streaming  with 
tears. 

"I  cannot,  I  cannot." 

"You  will  be  loyal  to  your  husband  and  to  your 
duty — you  must, "  he  said  inflexibly. 

"So  long  as  I  bear  his  name,  yes,  but " 

"And  you  will  bear  no  other  while  he  lives. 
'A-E-I,'  forever,"  said  the  old  man  softly. 

And  then  she  turned  and  left  him  abruptly. 
She  could  endure  no  more.  He  stood  a  long  time 
in  the  silent  room.  Pictures  of  his  youth  rose 
and  passed  before  him.  He  saw  as  in  a  vision  a 
woman's  face.  Around  his  neck  he  felt  the  touch 
of  a  woman's  arms.  Sweat  bedewed  his  brow.  He 
clenched  his  hands  and  stared  at  the  crucifix.  He 
stepped  toward  it  and  rested  his  bowed  head  upon 
the  feet  of  Christ.  He  looked  old  and  broken 
as  he  slowly  lifted  his  trembling  hands  up  and 
caught  the  arms  of  the  cross  and  prayed. 

"Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  oh,  Lord,  lead  us 
not  into  temptation." 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  MAN  WINS 

How  runs  the  ancient  rhyme? — 

First  she  would  and  then  she  would  not, 
TIcxt  she  could  and  then  she  could  not. 

That  ./as  exactly  the  situation  which  Chrissey 
"Warbu,  on  entered  into,  deliberately  enough  but 
scarce];,  realizing  the  consequences.  She  had 
been  ov  -whelmingly  impressed  by  the  old  Priest's 
words,  \nd  that  he  spoke  out  of  experience  had 
made  i"  e  impression  the  more  profound.  She 
had  s  that  she  could  not  continue  to  be  John 
"WVi.  m's  wife.  She  had  said  that  she  would 
free  !f  from  him  and  marry  Richard  Neyland, 

but  as  :  j  went  slowly  across  the  field  in  the  quiet 
of  i  /cning  and  sat  down  on  the  terrace  to 
thin  ovjr  after  a  dinner  that  she  scarcely 
tasted,  it  did  not  seem  to  her  quite  so  easy. 

Her  desire  to  carry  out  the  program,  suggested 
to  her  by  Neyland  was  just  as  keen  as  ever.  She 
was  as  fully  persuaded  that  she  had  a  right  to  choose 
her  happiness  and  that  fortune  had  used  her 
cruelly  in  preventing  it  as  she  had  been  before, 

195 


196         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

but  the  moral  question  bulked  larger.  She  had 
always  been  a  faithful  and  devoted  churchwoman. 
Her  religion  had  meant  something  more  than 
respectable  diversion,  a  graceful  acknowledgment 
of  the  influence  of  the  higher  things  in  life.  On 
the  whole  her  beliefs  were  vital.  So  the  love  of 
God  and  the  love  of  man  wrestled  within  her  soul, 
the  one  with  the  other  as  they  have  done  since 
time  and  the  world  began.  Which  would  win? 

The  old  Priest  in  further  counsel  told  her  that 
she  should  flee  temptation.  He  said  that  she 
must  have  nothing  to  do  with  Neyland.  Without 
giving  him  up  entirely,  keeping  the  possibilities  of 
her  wished-for  course  alive  though  in  the  back- 
ground, she  had  at  first  tried  to  follow  that  advice. 
Neyland  himself  interfered  with  that  part  of  the 
program. 

It  is  given  to  no  man  to  trifle  with  himself,  if 
the  deadly  usage  to  which  he  subjected  himself 
could  be  called  trifling,  as  Neyland  had  done 
without  showing  the  marks  of  it.  And  sometimes 
when  the  marks  do  not  show  outwardly  they  exist 
inwardly.  Wounds  of  the  soul,  though  healed, 
will  ache,  even  though  there  be  no  reddening 
scars  to  make  confession.  A  weak  mind  usually 
breaks  through  its  environment  of  flesh  and  makes 
a  weak  body.  Neyland  had  sowed  the  seeds  of 
the  wind  and  although  he  had  not  yet  reaped  the 
whirlwind,  the  harvest  was  to  be  expected. 

But  his  recognition  of  the  fact,  sudden  and 
delicious,  that  Chrissey  de  Selden,  for  so  she  was 


The  Man  Wins  197 

still  to  him,  loved  him  in  spite  of  what  he  had  done 
to  her  and  to  himself,  that  she  cared  nothing  for 
her  husband,  had  so  changed  the  spirit  of  his 
dream  that  he  seemed  almost  a  new  man.  The 
aching  wounds  of  the  soul,  self-inflicted,  were  for- 
got in  her  presence.  And  she  was  blind. 

He  approached  her  the  next  morning  with  the 
colour,  the  light-heartedness,  the  buoyancy  and 
enthusiasm  of  a  boy.  His  laughter  rang  free. 
He  had  recovered  the  temper  of  youth  and  some 
mastery  of  himself.  He  had  never  appeared  so 
entirely  desirable.  Save  at  Sorrento  and  in  the 
interview  before  her  marriage  she  had  never  seen 
him  in  his  blacker  moods,  in  his  lower  revelations. 
Now  she  idealized  him  and  rejoiced  in  the  ideal- 
ization. 

Chrissey  Warburton  was  no  weakling.  She 
did  not  at  once  abandon  her  position.  She  did 
not  immediately  give  up  her  determination.  She 
did  what  was  worse,  she  temporized.  She  would 
run  with  the  hare  and  hunt  with  the  hounds.  She 
decided  that  she  would  not  deny  herself  the 
pleasure  of  association  with  him,  although  she 
vowed  that  it  should  go  no  further.  The  woman 
proposed;  who  disposed  in  that  instance? 

Thence  forward  began  idyllic  days.  The  two 
played  with  fire,  one  thinking  she  could  not  be 
burned,  the  other  caring  not  if  he  were  consumed 
in  the  blaze.  And  the  fact  that  the  two  wills  had 
resolved  upon  two  entirely  different  ends,  one 
weakly,  one  strongly,  counted  for  consequences 


198          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

in  the  joyous  pursuits  of  the  enchanted  island; 
and  the  further  fact  that  one  will  at  least  was 
utterly  oblivious  to  any  consideration  of  right  or 
wrong  was  the  more  decisive.  The  man  thought 
only  of  happiness,  to  do  him  justice  her  happiness 
as  much  as  his  own.  The  moral  question  did  not 
trouble  him;  for  him,  indeed,  there  was  no  moral 
question,  just  love  and  happiness.  The  woman 
was  keenly  alive  to  the  error  of  her  ways  from  a 
point  of  view  which  was  strangely  out  of  touch 
with  modern  society.  This  difference  added  zest 
to  the  situation. 

Neyland  was  on  his  good  behaviour.  He  de- 
voted himself  entirely  to  her  with  a  rare  delicacy, 
an  exquisite  self-denial,  and  a  fascinating  humour 
that  she  could  scarcely  resist.  He  had  a  mind 
richly  stored,  his  experiences  had  been  vast  and 
varied.  His  birth  and  breeding  had  been  of  the 
finest.  He  shone  before  her,  warm-hearted,  im- 
petuous, witty,  humorous,  or  silently  attentive 
if  that  were  her  mood.  There  was  nothing  to  dis- 
close weakness.  He  showed  her  everything  but 
strength  and  power.  She  had  had  enough  of 
strength  in  Warburton  anyway.  Even  the  con- 
sideration of  her  husband,  his  careful  attention  to 
her  comfort,  and  his  own  self-sacrifice  were  re- 
membered only  to  irritate.  And  there  was  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  strength  in  Neyland,  too,  at  least 
the  strength  of  a  great  passion. 

Chrissey  Warburton  had  frequent  talks  with 
Father  Smith.  The  old  man  did  not  spare  her. 


The  Man  Wins  199 

He  spoke  as  a  Prince  of  the  Church  might  have 
spoken  to  a  subject.  Like  Richelieu  he  almost 
launched  the  curse  of  Christendom  upon  her. 
Sometimes  she  quaked  under  his  stern  reprimands 
while  she  resented  them.  Sometimes  touches  of 
tenderness  and  human  sympathy,  for  he  had  grown 
to  like  this  wayward,  tempest-tossed  little  woman, 
would  mollify  her  anger  and  resentment  and 
she  would  resolve  anew.  She  told  him  that  there 
would  be  no  end  such  as  she  had  planned  to  this 
association,  that  eventually  she  would  go  back  to 
Warburton,  but  when  he  urged  her  to  break  off  the 
present  intercourse  she  refused.  That  transient 
happiness  at  least  she  would  cling  to  and  enjoy. 

Now  Neyland  was  tact  itself.  He  had  consid- 
ered the  matter  deeply  and  he  had  decided  that  it 
would  be  better  for  him  not  to  refer  to  the  future 
for  the  present.  He  had  said  his  say  that  first 
day.  He  did  not  know  that  she  had  gone  to  the 
Priest  with  the  proposition.  He  would  let  it  work. 
Meanwhile  he  would  devote  his  time  to  make  his 
hold  upon  her  firmer  and  more  unbreakable.  He 
would  accustom  her  to  his  devotion,  trusting  that 
habit  might  make  the  heart  grow  fonder.  He 
strove  to  make  himself  desirable,  necessary,  in- 
dispensable. 

And  so  the  man  drove  and  the  woman  drifted 
on,  the  anchor  chain  that  bound  her  to  the  Church 
chafing  thiner  and  thiner,  link  after  link  breaking 
despite  the  watchful  care  of  the  captain  to  ease 
the  strain.  Out  of  his  own  heart  the  Priest  prayed 


200         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

for  her  as  perhaps  he  had  never  prayed  before, 
and  he  strove  earnestly  to  retain  the  faith  in  her 
to  which  he  had  given  utterance  in  that  first  inter- 
view, but  it  was  a  hard  task  and  became  harder. 

It  took  a  greater  man  than  Neyland  and  a  finer 
character  to  stand  up  long  under  such  a  strain. 
After  two  weeks  of  such  delightful  association  as 
almost  made  her  forget  everything  but  that  he  was 
there  and  that  he  loved  her  and  she  loved  him,  he 
gave  way  to  his  feelings  and  the  occasion  of  it  was 
Father  Smith.  The  ecclesiastic  and  the  woman 
had  just  had  an  interview  in  which  Chrissey  War- 
burton  had  been  even  more  stubborn  and  recal- 
citrant than  usual. 

To  them  on  the  porch  at  "Whileaway"  en- 
tered Neyland.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  met 
the  Priest.  Father  Smith  saw  his  opportunity, 
seized  it,  struck  hard. 

"Sir,"  said  he,  "pardon  the  liberty  of  an  old 
man,  but  you  do  wrong  to  come  here. " 

"And  by  what  authority  do  you  presume  to 
speak?  " 

"By  that  of  a  Priest  of  the  Church." 

"I  don't  recognize  your  right." 

"I  appeal  to  you  as  a  man  of  the  world  then,  who 
was  a  man  before  he  was  a  Priest,  who  has  lived 
and  loved  and  suffered,  to  break  off  this  intimacy, 
to  go  away,  to  leave  this  woman  to  her  better  self, 
her  higher  nature. " 

"No,"  burst  out  the  woman. 

"Silence,"  said  the  Priest. 


The  Man  Wins  201 

"I  will  not  hear  you  further,"  cried  Neyland. 

"You  shall,  you  must.  Mrs.  Warburton  has  no 
cause  for  reproach  against  her  husband. " 

"She  doesn't  love  him." 

"Love!  How  can  it  be  weighed  for  a  single 
moment  beside  duty?" 

"She  owes  him  no  duty." 

"True  enough.    We  don't  owe  duties  to  men." 

"To  whom  then?" 

"To  God." 

"She  is  so  unhappy,"  answered  Neyland,  evad- 
ing the  direct  issue  while  Chrissey  Warburton 
listened  breathlessly. 

"And  you  will  make  her  more  unhappy." 

"No,"  cried  the  woman  again. 

But  Father  Smith  paid  her  no  attention  what- 
ever as  he  answered. 

"Oh,  I  grant  you  that  a  certain  satisfaction, 
what  the  world  calls  happiness,  may  be  yours  for  a 
little.  She  doesn't  see  things  clearly  now  nor  do 
you.  If  you  sin  against  the  law " 

"Man's  law?" 

"God's  law.  You  will  eventually  so  deeply 
regret  it,  your  unhappiness  then  will  be  so  lasting, 
that  the  brief  pleasure  you  may  have  had  will  be 
forgot  and  for  eternity!" 

"And  does  God  demand  that  of  this  poor  girl?" 
— Neyland  stepped  over  to  her  and  put  his  arm 
about  her  and  as  in  a  dream  she  suffered  him. 
He  stood  very  straight  and  held  her  close — "Does 
God's  law  or  justice,  if  you  believe  in  them,  require 


202          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

that  this  woman  should  be  unhappy,  that  she 
should  suffer  a  lifetime,  because  of  an  insult  of 
which  I  have  repented  in  ways  that  no  priest  could 
dream  of?  Should  her  life  be  ruined  for  her  im- 
pulsive action  or  mine?" 

"It  is  not  those  actions  which  will  ruin  it,  but 
you." 

"I  cannot  speak  for  her,"  said  Neyland,  "but 
I  am  content  to  accept  whatever  fate  the  future 
may  hold  so  that  I  may  have  her.  Would  you 
force  her  into  the  arms  of  a  man  she  hates? "he 
went  on  passionately.  "Is  not  that  profanation? 
Would  you  keep  her  from  the  man  she  loves?" 

"  No, "  answered  the  priest.  "  I  would  force  her 
nowhere,  but  she  assumed  a  duty  which  carries 
with  it  an  obligation.  I  have  such  confidence  in 
her  that  if  you  will  leave  her  I  am  sure  she  will 
come  to  see  that  duty. " 

"In  what  way?" 

"  In  the  path  of  honour  lies  the  way  of  duty  and 
I  know  she  will  find  the  course  of  affection  runs 
there  as  well. " 

"And  if  not?" 

"She  is  still  bound.  Oh,  not  to  live  with  her 
husband  but  to  live  with  his  name,  at  least  without 
yours,  and  devote  herself  to  good  works,  to  find 
in  them  her  highest  happiness. " 

"  I  know  a  nearer  way,  and  a  surer,  in  my  arms, 
here  next  to  my  heart." 

"And  you,  my  daughter,"  said  the  old  man, 
"whom  I  have  learned  to  love,  I  appeal  to  you 


The  Man  Wins  203 

once  again.  Don't  shatter  my  faith  and  break 
my  trust.  Don't  commit  this  deadly  sin.  The 
Church  of  your  youth,  the  Church  of  Christ,  holds 
out  its  arms  to  you."  He  suited  action  to  words 
by  extending  his  own  arms.  "Come  away  from 
temptation.  Be  strong.  Send  for  your  husband. 
Dismiss  this  man." 

The  hour  of  choice  was  upon  her.  She  had 
weakened  her  resistance  by  association  with  the 
idea.  She  stared  at  the  Priest  a  long  time.  Ney- 
land  had  the  wit  to  say  nothing.  The  ecclesiastic 
could  only  wait.  By  and  by  she  turned  slowly 
as  if  drawn  by  some  irresistible  force  away  from 
the  outstretched  hand  of  the  Church  until  she  hid 
her  face  on  Neyland's  breast. 

"I  love  him,"  she  whispered. 

"You  see,  sir,"  said  Neyland  quickly. 

Father  Smith  threw  up  his  hands.-' 

"  May  God  have  mercy  upon  her  and  upon  you ! " 
he  said  with  head  bowed  as  if  in  prayer.  Then 
turning  away  he  added,  "I  shall  never  cease  to 
pray  that  you  may  awake,  both  of  you,  before  it  is 
too  late." 

"And  will  you  leave  us  now,  sir?" 

"I  have  another  word  to  say,"  said  the  Priest 
pausing.  "I  have  heard  not  a  little  of  you,  sir. 
Are  you  the  kind  of  a  man  to  whom  any  woman's 
happiness  should  be  entrusted?" 

"How  dare  you?"  cried  Neyland,  his  face  con- 
vulsed with  angry  passion,  partly  at  least  because 
the  keen  question  hurt. 


204         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I  dare  all  that  becomes  a  man  and  a  Priest, 
sir.  Think  that  over  as  best  you  can. " 

He  turned  and  went  out  without  a  further  word. 

"  I  don't  care  what  you  are, "  said  the  girl,  lifting 
her  face  toward  him.  "I  love  you." 

"  I  shall  be  anything, "  answered  the  man,  "any- 
thing that  you  make  me." 

Then  he  released  her  and  thrust  her  gently 
away  and  stood  looking  down  upon  her. 

"Why  did  you  do  that?" 

"I  was  afraid." 

He  saw  that  in  her  face  which  gave  him  courage. 
First  he  bent  his  head  and  closed  his  eyes  lest  she 
should  see  anything  that  should  affright  her. 
Then  he  kissed  her  and  swept  her  to  his  heart. 
It  was  over.  The  battle  had  been  fought  and  she 
had  lost.  He  had  won. 

"Go  now,"  she  said  at  last.  "I  cannot  bear 
any  more  happiness  even.  You  will  be  good  to  me, 
won't  you?" 

What  he  answered  was  not  true. 

"  I  will.     We  shall  be  so  happy. " 

"But  you  mustn't  kiss  me  again  until  you  can 
do  so  honourably.  I  am  still  his  wife,  I " 

"I  understand.     Good-bye." 

He  turned  away.  She  put  her  hand  on  his  arm 
as  if  to  detain  him.  He  stopped. 

"No,"  she  said.  "Go,  but  come  tomorrow 
early.  The  horses  will  be  ready.  We  will  ride 
out  into  the  woods  somewhere  to  be  alone — 
together." 


CHAPTER  XX 

CAVE  MEN 

NEYLAND  was  an  accomplished  horseman  and 
Chrissey  was  equally  at  home  in  the  saddle.  She 
never  looked  more  attractive  than  the  next  morn- 
ing, when  he  came  down  the  oleander  walk  and 
bounded  up  the  steps  to  greet  her,  standing  in  her 
habit  with  the  groom  holding  the  horses  hard  by. 
She  had  said  that  there  must  be  no  lover's  famil- 
iarities between  them,  and  she  was  sorry  as  soon  as 
she  had  done  so,  although  she  knew  her  decision 
was  right.  After  all,  having  taken  the  greater 
plunge,  what  were  these  smaller  matters?  The 
groom  and  the  house  servants  would  have  pre- 
vented any  demonstrations,  yet  what  did  that 
matter  either?  They  had  already  drawn  their 
own  inferences  from  the  intimacy.  She  felt  a 
certain  royal  indifference  to  public  opinion. 

She  extended  her  hand  to  him  and  he  noticed  on 
her  arm  for  the  first  time  and  pushed  up  so  that  he 
could  see  it  beneath  her  riding  gauntlet,  his 
bracelet.  His  hand  trembled  as  he  mounted  her 
upon  her  horse.  And  they  rode  over  the  hills  and 
far  away  together  for  such  a  day  as  neither  had 

205 


206         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

spent  before.  They  found  a  charming  little  way- 
side inn  on  one  of  the  more  secluded  roads  of  the 
enchanted  island  near  the  wilder  south  shore  and 
there  under  the  trees  they  broke  bread  together  in 
the  most  delightful  of  intimacies. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  they  came  back 
to  the  villa.  As  she  dismounted  with  his  assistance 
she  naturally  fell  into  his  arms  and  although  it  had 
been  prohibited  he  boldly  kissed  her  before  he 
released  her.  She  made  no  remonstrance.  She 
even  kissed  him  in  return.  They  turned  leaving 
the  horses  to  the  groom,  who  came  around  the 
house  just  too  late  to  see  this  exchange  of  kisses. 
Slowly  they  ascended  the  steps  to  the  hall  to  meet 
John  Warburton  in  the  doorway. 

She  remembered  that  the  Bermudian  was  due 
that  day.  He  had  come  without  a  word  of  warn- 
ing. He  had  hurried  to  the  villa.  The  servants 
told  him  that  she  had  gone  out  for  the  day  and 
when  he  had  asked  with  whom  they  had  been 
forced  to  tell  him  with  Neyland.  Savagely  pacing 
up  and  down  the  veranda  in  silence  during  the  long 
afternoon  he  had  enjoyed  ample  time  thoroughly 
to  digest  that  fact,  although  in  his  most  anxious 
moment  he  did  not  suspect  the  truth. 

It  happened  that  he  had  not  heard  the  horses 
coming  slowly  down  the  long  avenue  under  the 
oleanders  until  they  had  halted  before  the  door. 
John  Warburton  was  the  soul  of  honour  and  dig- 
nity. He  would  not  have  been  guilty  of  espionage. 
He  came  through  the  hall  from  the  front  porch 


Cave  Men  207 

overlooking  the  sea  to  the  rear  porch  overlooking 
the  garden  without  the  least  attempt  at  conceal- 
ment. Had  the  lovers  not  been  so  absorbed  in 
each  other  they  would  have  heard  him.  As  it  was 
he  saw  his  wife  in  the  arms  of  another  man,  that 
man's  kiss  upon  her  lips  unrebuked,  welcomed, 
returned ! 

Never  had  the  ability  to  control  himself,  his  iron 
capacity  for  self -repression,  been  more  thoroughly 
in  evidence.  He  stood  in  the  doorway  as  if  rooted 
to  the  spot  while  the  two  upon  whom  he  bent  the 
fierceness  of  his  gaze  slowly  mounted  the  rather 
long  flight  of  stone  steps.  It  was  not  until  they 
had  nearly  reached  the  top  that  they  saw  him. 
They  were  at  his  mercy.  The  advantage  of 
position  was  entirely  with  him.  He  could  have 
sprung  upon  them  and  thrown  them  both  down  the 
steps  and  they  could  have  offered  no  effective 
resistance.  The  impulse  to  do  that  very  thing 
was  strong.  Although  his  wife's  avoidance  of  him 
and  refusal  to  allow  him  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  her  had  cut  him  to  the  quick,  he  had  never 
suspected  that  it  arose  from  anything  but  the 
natural  repugnance  of  an  unloving  woman. 

He  had  never  found  out  what  Neyland  had  done 
that  night  at  Sorrento.  Foolishly  he  had  refused 
to  let  her  tell  him.  He  had  rested  content  in  the 
conviction  that  Neyland  had  been  put  out  of  the 
running  for  good.  What  had  caused  the  associa- 
tion to  be  renewed?  There  could  be  but  one  answer 
to  that  question. 


r  Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

He  was  not  of  jealous  temperament  but  that 
very  fact  now  caused  him  to  give  way  to  the  most 
furious  jealousy.  He  had  never  experienced  such 
a  sensation  in  his  life.  He  was  firmly  resolved  to 
kill  Neyland  then  and  there.  The  surge  of  his 
passion  was  the  greater  because  of  his  habitual 
repression.  Yet  he  would  take  no  unfair  advant- 
age of  the  man.  He  could  scarcely  have  attacked 
him  without  attacking  his  wife  anyway. 

The  groom  had  taken  the  horses,  the  butler  had 
followed  him  to  the  doorway.  He  must  make  no 
scene  before  them.  His  purpose  would  lose  noth- 
ing of  its  intensity  for  a  momentary  delay,  so  he 
stood  quite  still  until  they  caught  sight  of  him. 
The  woman  uttered  a  low,  shuddering  cry.  Ney- 
land whose  arm  had  been  about  her  waist  re- 
leased her  for  a  second  and  then  he  seized  her 
again  as  if  to  reassert  his  claim.  He  was  no  coward 
physically.  He  was  as  brave  as  a  man  could  be, 
or  had  been,  before  he  had  weakened  his  nerve 
by  his  mode  of  life. 

Warburton  bowed  to  the  two.  In  his  usual 
impassive  way  and  with  a  voice  that  did  not  break 
he  welcomed  them  while  he  waved  them  forward, 
stepping  back  from  the  hall  door  to  give  them 
passage. 

"Won't  you  come  in?"  he  said  as  they  entered 
the  door  and  Neyland  shifted  his  hold  from  the 
waist  to  the  arm  of  the  woman,  who  was  between 
the  two. 

He  followed  them  through  the  hall  from  one  side 


Cave  Men  209 

of  the  house  to  the  other  and  confronted  the  pair 
on  the  veranda  having  dismissed  the  butler  and 
carefully  closed  the  door  behind  him.  The  porch 
was  perhaps  twenty  feet  broad  and  in  part  uncov- 
ered. The  house  was  built  on  a  cliff  overlooking 
the  water,  which  beat  at  the  foot  of  the  coral  rocks 
something  like  a  hundred  feet  away,  and  it  was 
perhaps  thirty  feet  sheer  down  to  the  high  tide 
level.  There  was  a  stone  balustrade  on  the  sea- 
ward edge  of  the  open  terrace,  something  like  that 
at  the  Victoria  in  Sorrento. 

Warburton  never  carried  a  weapon.  It  was  his 
swift  purpose  to  seize  Neyland  and  throw  him 
over  the  balustrade  and  let  him  be  killed  by  the 
fall  to  the  rocks  below.  The  two  men  were  evenly 
matched  in  size.  Neyland  had  the  advantage  of 
youth.  He  was  at  least  fifteen  years  younger  than 
Warburton  and  much  more  accustomed  to  athletic 
exercise  but  Warburton  had  the  benefit  of  a  clean 
and  regular  life.  Normally  the  handicap  of 
years  would  have  put  him  hopelessly  at  a  disad- 
vantage but  now,  if  anything,  the  superiority  was 
with  him. 

Neither  man  stopped  to  weigh  these  facts. 
Each  man  was  possessed  of  a  violent  hatred  for  the 
other  and  in  these  hates  once  again  Warburton 
had  an  advantage,  for  in  Neyland's  mind  was 
some  consciousness  of  guilt,  a  certain  feeling  of 
shame. 

Chrissey  Warburton's  feelings  baffled  analysis. 
A  wild,  overpowering,  overmastering  terror 
14 


210         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

filled  her.  What  had  led  her  to  imagine  that  War- 
burton  would  condone  such  an  offence  or  receive 
it  with  indifference  she  could  not  imagine.  In 
spite  of  the  fact  that  he  stood  there  so  quietly,  only 
his  blazing  eyes  indicating  his  passion,  she  felt  it. 
His  first  words  confirmed  her  every  fear. 

"Take  your  hand  off  my  wife's  arm  and  stand 
aside  if  you  have  the  manhood  to  back  up  your 
actions,  you — "  He  did  not  need  to  express  in 
words  what  naturally  would  have  followed  that 
final  pronoun.  No  one  could  mistake  the  content 
of  his  contempt.  "  I  might  have  killed  you  on  the 
steps  yonder  but  it  is  not  my  way.  I  fight  fairly 
and  in  the  open." 

Neyland  did  not  need  a  second  bidding.  He 
dropped  the  girl's  arm  instantly  and  even  took 
a  step  toward  Warburton.  Disdaining  to  strike 
him  and  brushing  aside  Neyland's  uplifted  arm  the 
older  man  leaped  at  him.  In  an  instant  the  two 
men  were  locked  in  a  silent,  wordless,  terrific 
struggle. 

The  woman  shrank  back  against  the  wall,  aware 
only  of  a  reeling  black  figure  and  a  brown  one 
intertwined,  for  Warburton,  who  was  unusually 
punctilious  about  such  matters,  had  changed  into 
evening  clothes  while  Neyland  still  wore  his  riding 
suit.  She  was  only  conscious  of  whirling,  straining, 
writhing  giants  reeling  to  and  fro,  scattering  chairs 
and  tables,  breathing  hard.  The  very  silence  with 
which  they  fought  save  for  their  deep  respirations 
yet  seemed  to  fill  the  still  air  of  the  pleasant  night 


Cave  Men  211 

with  all  the  noises  of  battle.    Their  passions  were 
not  clamant  to  the  ear  but  to  senses. 

As  each  strained  and  struggled  mightily,  pre- 
sently cleaner  life  and  moral  justice  began  to  tell. 
Foot  by  foot,  and  the  slight  degree  of  progress 
indicated  the  desperate  nature  of  the  resistance, 
Warburton  forced  Neyland  toward  the  balustrade. 
Even  to  the  dazed,  bewildered  girl,  watching  as  a 
cave  woman  might  have  done  two  wild  prehistoric 
lovers  fighting  for  her  favours,  came  the  percep- 
tion that  the  man  of  her  choice  was  being  beaten. 
Although  she  was  scarcely  conscious  of  it,  mingled 
with  her  determination  to  go  to  his  assistance  was 
a  little  thrill  of  admiration  for  the  prowess  of  her 
husband.  At  last  he  was  showing  himself  a  man 
with  a  man's  passions.  If  he  had  only  mastered 
her  that  way,  but 

As  it  often  happens  a  struggle  may  be  main- 
tained on  practically  equal  terms  for  a  certain 
period  but  there  comes  an  instant  when  resistance 
fails  and  the  master  has  his  way.  In  this  crisis 
Neyland  was  paying  for  the  past.  With  a  mighty 
rush,  for  all  the  strength  of  Neyland  seemed 
suddenly  to  have  passed  into  the  arms  of  War- 
burton,  the  latter  forced  him  to  the  balustrade 
and  with  a  great  effort  heaved  him  high  in  the 
air. 

What  was  he  about  to  do?  The  woman  realized 
it  instantly.  Like  a  bolt  from  a  catapult  she  flew 
across  the  porch  and  grasped  Warburton' s  arm. 
She  dragged  at  it  with  a  force  and  power  no  one 


212         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

could  have  imagined  so  slight  a  body  could  have 
exerted. 

"For  God's  sake,"  she  cried,  panting  out  the 
words  as  she  struggled. 

But  Warburton  was  in  no  mood  to  heed  such  an 
appeal.  God  had  been  forgotten  in  the  tempest 
of  passion. 

"For  my  sake, "  cried  the  woman,  using  the  only 
effective  words.  "I  love  him,"  she  screamed  in 
desperate  abandon. 

The  words  seemed  to  give  Neyland  an  access  of 
strength.  White  faced,  breathless,  spent,  he  yet 
managed  to  get  his  feet  against  the  balustrade. 
It  would  not  have  served,  nor  would  the  frantic 
help  of  the  woman  have  prevented  it  were  it  not 
that  the  consciousness  of  these  direful  words 
suddenly  penetrated  Warburton' s  brain.  He  gave 
over  the  effort.  Some  of  the  strength  went  out  of 
him,  too.  He  still  held  Neyland  immovable  but 
he  made  no  attempt  to  thrust  him  over.  Sud- 
denly he  released  him  and  not  gently  threw  him 
from  him.  Neyland  went  reeling  but  caught  the 
balustrade  as  he  staggered  and  broke  his  fall. 
So  he  went  down  and  once  again  she  saw  the  man 
she  loved  at  her  feet,  this  time  not  put  there  by  her 
own  hand.  Warburton  towered  over  the  prostrate 
man  and  the  shrinking,  awestruck  figure  of  his 
wife.  The  woman  put  her  hands  to  her  head. 

"You  love  that?"  cried  Warburton. 

"Yes,"  said  the  woman,  dropping  to  her  knees 
and  clasping  her  half -dazed  lover  in  her  arms. 


Cave  Men  213 

"Let  me  up,"  gasped  Neyland.  "Do  you  think 
I'd  allow  myself  to  be  beaten  by  him?" 

His  courage  was  indeed  worthy  of  a  better  cause. 
He  struggled  to  a  sitting  position  and  finally  got 
to  his  feet  dragging  her  up  also.  Warburton  made 
no  effort  to  prevent.  The  woman  again  stood 
between  them. 

"You  love  him?"  asked  the  older  man  again, 
with  indescribable  emphasis  on  the  pronoun. 

"Yes,"  repeated  the  woman  defiantly. 

Perhaps,  if  Warburton  had  not  pressed  her  so 
hard,  if  she  had  not  followed  the  impulse  to  make 
good  and  to  stand  by  the  other  she  might  not  have 
been  so  ready.  He  was  unfortunate  in  his  ques- 
tioning, for  really  she  had  more  regard  for  Warbur- 
ton in  her  heart  at  that  moment  than  ever  before. 
But  having  burned  her  bridges  behind,  there  was  no 
way  of  retreat.  She  had  to  stand  to  her  guns. 
Besides,  although  Neyland  had  been  beaten  he 
was  by  no  means  a  despicable  figure. 

"You  got  the  better  of  me  once, "  he  gritted  out, 
white  with  passion  and  shaking  with  nervousness 
but  quite  unafraid,  "but  I  will  try  it  again  and 
again  and  again  until  I  can  try  no  more." 

He  moved  toward  the  other  man  but  Chrissey 
Warburton  kept  them  apart. 

"And  I,"  said  Warburton  to  her,  quite  oblivi- 
ous of  Neyland,  "your  husband,  what  about  me?" 

And  again  the  question  was  not  wise.  The 
woman  could  make  no  other  answer. 

"You,  I  hate,"  she  cried. 


214         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Why,  what  have  I  done?" 

"You  married  me  when  I  loved  someone  else." 

"But  that  was  of  your  own  free  will." 

"I  didn't  know." 

"You  should  have  known." 

"I  never  said  once  that  I  loved  you.  I  didn't 
realize  what  it  meant  until " 

"Great  God!"  cried  the  man,  "and  now  you 
bring  this  dishonour  upon  my  name." 

"Your  name,"  laughed  the  woman.  "You 
have  no  name.  You're  a " 

She  stopped,  leaving  the  sentence  incomplete 
before  the  awful  look  of  her  husband.  She  would 
have  given  worlds  to  have  recalled  the  mordant 
taunt  as  soon  as  it  had  escaped  her  lips,  for  this 
time  she  had  pierced  the  joint  in  his  armour. 
He  reeled  back  against  the  balustrade  as  if  he  had 
been  struck  by  a  trip-hammer.  It  was  his  turn 
to  catch  the  railing  for  support.  In  the  half-light 
she  could  see  the  colour  leave  his  face,  the  colour 
that  had  been  brought  there  by  passion  and  jeal- 
ousy and  the  fierce  pulsation  of  his  struggle. 

"And  you  can  say  that  to  me,  Christianna?" 

"Stand  aside,  Chris,"  said  Neyland  imperi- 
ously, fortunately  not  understanding.  "We've 
got  to  finish  this  thing. " 

"No,"  said  the  woman.  "Physically  he  is 
stronger. " 

"Physically,"  laughed  Warburton,  wildly  put- 
ting his  hand  to  his  heart. 

"  I  have  just  given  up  the  man  I  hate, "  said  the 


Cave  Men  215 

woman  desperately.  "I  don't  propose  to  have 
the  man  I  love  killed  before  my  very  eyes.  You 
are  my  one  chance  of  happiness,  Richard,"  she 
pleaded.  "Won't  you  please  go?" 

"And  leave  you  alone  with  him?" 

"He  won't  harm  me,  I'm  sure  of  that." 

"Will  you  give  me  your  word  of  honour,  War- 
burton?" 

"I'll  have  no  dealings  whatsoever  with  you, 
Neyland.  You  don't  know  the  meaning  of 
honour. ' '  Warburton  straightened  up  as  he  spoke. 
His  colour  came  back.  "Surely  I  may  have  the 
privilege  of  a  few  words  with  my  wife,  she  still 
bears  that  title,  in  my  own  house  without  your 
presence, "  he  added. 

"I'll  see  you  in  the  morning,"  said  Neyland. 
"I'm  staying  at  the  Belmont. " 

"You  need  not  be  afraid  but  that  I  will  look  you 
up.  The  score  between  us  has  got  to  be  settled." 

"Won't  you  please  go?  For  God's  sake!  I 
can't  stand  it  any  longer.  Don't  you  see?  If 
you  ever  expect  me  to —  Go, "  pleaded  the  woman. 

"If  you  lay  the  weight  of  your  finger  on  this 
woman,"  said  Neyland,  "you'll  settle  with  me. 
If  I  can't  do  it  with  my  naked  hands  I'll  shoot  you 
on  sight." 

"Oh,"  interposed  Chrissey  Warburton,  "this 
is  too  much!  If  you  don't  go  at  once  Richard, 
I  swear  that  neither  of  you —  I'll  kill  myself. " 

"Your  wish  is  still  my  law,"  said  Neyland, 
swinging  past  the  other  two  to  the  door. 


216         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Warburton  threw  it  open. 

"Your  way,"  he  thundered. 

Neyland  drew  himself  up.  He  was  trembling 
in  every  nerve,  trembling  from  the  violence  of 
the  struggle,  trembling  from  the  sense  of  defeat, 
trembling  from  the  weakness  of  a  shattered  vital- 
ity too  heavily  drawn  upon,  but  if  it  were  to  be 
his  last  effort  he  would  not  show  it.  He  took  the 
woman's  hand  and  kissed  it  reverently. 

"I  am  sorry  for  your  sake,"  he  said.  "I  will 
see  you  in  the  morning." 

He  walked  by  Warburton  with  the  steady  step 
of  strength  and  pride,  his  head  up,  and  Warburton 
might  have  struck  him  as  he  passed  and  killed 
him  but  he  recognized  that  Neyland  paid  that 
tribute  to  his  spirit  of  fair  play.  Neyland  had 
attempted  to  steal  his  wife  behind  his  back  but 
Warburton  could  not  strike  a  man  in  the  same 
way.  Neyland  would  not  have  done  it  either, 
although  he  had  no  compunctions  with  regard  to 
the  wife !  Such  is  the  strange  ethical  code  of  men. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

SHE  MUST   GO   ON 

WARBURTON  closed  the  door  behind  him  and 
turned  to  confront  his  wife.  For  a  moment  she 
faced  him  and  then  oppressed  by  the  weight  of  the 
near  tragedy  of  love  and  life  she  sank  down  in  a 
chair,  her  hands  on  the  arms,  her  head  thrown 
back,  her  face  upturned  toward  him,  a  little  con- 
scious of  his  mastery,  a  little  afraid,  a  little  re- 
lieved and  greatly  miserable.  His  first  action 
was  somehow  characteristic.  He  adjusted  his 
disordered  garments  as  if  in  the  straightening  of 
his  clothes  he  was  pulling  himself  together  again. 
And  then  he  came  toward  her.  She  shrank  away 
a  little,  whereat  he  laughed  again. 

"You  need  have  no  fear.  I  will  do  you  no 
harm." 

"I  know  that." 

"And  nothing,  no  physical  torture  that  I  could 
inflict  upon  you  would  in  any  way  compensate  for 
the  agony  of  these  moments.  Oh,  believe  me,  not 
so  much  because  you  do  not  love  me.  I  was  a  fool 
to  expect  that,  but  from  the  humiliation  that  comes 
to  me,  when  I  think  that  once  I  loved  you." 

217 


218         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

His  voice  was  low  and  quiet,  steady,  even,  almost 
monotonous  but  not  quite.  There  was  more  in  the 
slight  emphasis  upon  the  final  pronoun  than  a 
stranger  would  have  heard  but  she  recognized  its 
contempt. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  asked,  writhing  a 
little  under  that  merciless  scorn. 

"It's  a  deeper  insult,  since  you  cannot  love  me, 
that  your  affections  should  decline  to  that  drunken 
dissolute  blackguard,  Neyland,  of  whose  quality 
you  had  a  taste  in  Sorrento.  What  did  he  do 
there?" 

His  bad  angel  stood  at  Warburton's  elbow.  If 
he  had  pleaded  or  if  he  had  seized  her  and  lifted 
her  up  as  he  had  grasped  Neyland,  even  but  to 
throw  her  over  the  cliffs  she  might  have —  As 
it  was  his  contempt  of  the  man  she  loved  and  of 
herself  also  filled  her  with  fury.  She  sprang  to  her 
feet  and  confronted  him.  With  bold  and  some- 
how splendid  defiance  she  told  him  in  words  swift 
and  white-hot  with  passion  and  resentment  just 
what  had  happened  on  the  terrace  at  Sorrento. 
Warburton  laughed  again.  Mrs.  de  Selden  had 
said  that  he  was  an  unsmiling  man,  not  given  to 
merriment.  What  would  she  have  thought,  nay 
from  what  blue  heaven  above  them  bent  looking 
on,  perhaps,  what  did  she  think  of  him  now? 

"He  outraged  your  modesty  and  through  his 
vile  touch  he  seems  to  have  polluted  your  soul." 

"How  dare  you  say  that?"  cried  the  woman, 
seizing  him  by  the  arm  and  in  her  furious  anger 


She  Must  Go  On  219 

striving  to  shake  the  man.  She  might  as  well  have 
tried  to  move  a  pyramid.  He  thrust  her  away 
roughly. 

"Off,"  he  said  bitterly.  "I'd  rather  be  the 
child  of  the  streets  that  I  am,  the  son  of  a  shame 
that  is  not  my  own,  the  nameless  outcast  that  you 
called  me,  than  such  as  you.  I  may  bear  the 
burden  of  some  other's  evil.  You  have  on  your 
shoulders  a  weight  that  is  all  your  own. " 

For  one  swift  moment  came  the  impulse  to 
apologize,  to  withdraw  those  bitter  words  she  had 
flung  at  him  in  the  heat  of  passion.  Warburton 
did  not  give  her  time. 

"  Of  course, "  he  said,  resuming  his  ordinary  tone 
as  if  ashamed  of  his  recent  outbreak.  "I  have 
no  right  to  talk  that  way  to  you.  Your  opinions 
are  your  own.  The  privilege  of  your  sex  enables 
you  to  express  them  with  impunity.  You  will 
see  the  impossibility  from  my  point  of  view,  as  well 
as  the  undesirability  from  yours,  of  your  bearing 
that  name  of  the  street  any  longer. " 

"You  mean?" 

"You  may  take  the  freedom  that  you  crave, 
which  will  enable  you  to  go  to  the  lover  who  per- 
haps may  not  have  waited  for  a  legal  sanction  to 
possess  himself  of  what  was  mine." 

The  woman  could  grow  no  whiter.  The  un- 
avoidable inference  of  his  cruel  words  had  given 
her  the  deadliest  insult  that  his  scorn  and  contempt 
could  have  heaped  upon  her.  She  forgot  her  own 
provocation  of  him. 


22O         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"You  may  think  what  you  please,"  she  burst 
out,  "it  is  a  matter  of  indifference  to  me,  but  you 
shall  not  say  that.  Not  for  your  soul's  comfort  but 
for  my  own  self-respect  I  deny  that  charge.  I  am 
as  I  was  save  in  my  heart.  As  for  freedom,  you 
voice  my  own  wish.  I  shall  seek  it  the  quickest 
way." 

"I  do  not  think  there  is  anything  more  to  be 
said,"  returned  Warburton. 

"Yes,  there  is." 
,  " And  what  is  that?" 

"I  want  you  to  let  Richard  Neyland  alone." 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"I  love  him,  I  tell  you,"  cried  the  woman 
desperately.  Was  she  convincing  herself  of  that 
fact.  "I  am  young,  life  is  before  me.  Free  from 
you  I  shall  have  a  chance  at  happiness  with  him. 
I  want  it.  Do  not  take  it  from  me.  You  are 
stronger.  Leave  him  to  me." 

"To  do  him  justice,  although  he  is  a  thief  and 
blackguard,  I  do  not  believe  he  would  enjoy  a 
woman  pleading  for  his  safety." 

"He  will  not  know." 

"Yes,  sooner  or  later." 

"He  will  never  know  from  me." 

"  You  will  tell  him." 

"That  is  my  lookout." 

The  man  thought  deeply. 

"My  dream  is  over,"  he  said  more  quietly. 
"  Christianna,  when  your  father  left  you  to  me,  I 
swore  over  his  dead  body  that  I  would  be  true  to 


She  Must  Go  On  221 

the  trust.  I  told  your  mother  the  same  thing  as 
she  lay  dying  before  us  a  month  ago.  It  seems 
that  their  approbation  is  all  I  have  to  hope  for  in 
life,  failing  your  affection.  I  won't  touch  him,  but 
for  God's  sake  keep  him  out  of  my  way.  You 
have  looked  upon  me  as  something  other  than  a 
man,  but  you  may  have  seen  from  this  night  how 
I  feel!  Go  and  get  your  divorce  and  marry  him. 
I  can  scarcely  wish  you  a  more  unhappy  fortune. 
For  the  rest  I  am  sorry  I  said  what  I  did  about 
you  a  moment  since.  I  do  not  believe  you  are  a 
bad  woman  physically,  perhaps  not  bad  at  heart. 
Your  fortune  I  shall  be  glad  to  transfer  to  your 
own  care,  or  to  that  of  any  trustee  you  may  ap- 
point and  you  know,  of  course  that  any  demand 
you  may  make  upon  me " 

"I  will  make  none,"  said  the  woman,  "I  only 
want  to  be  free." 

"Very  well,  I  suppose  you  will  be  going  back 
home,  I  mean  to  New  York " 

"At  the  first  opportunity." 

"Your  address  will  be?" 

"I  shall  go  to  Colonel  Tayloe's." 

"That  is  well.  I  came  down  on  the  Bermudian, 
but  the  yacht  will  be  here  tomorrow.  I  couldn't 
wait  for  her,  I  was  so  anxious  to  see  you.  Will  you 
go  back  on  her?" 

"No,  on  the  Bermudian." 

"I'll  take  the  yacht  then.  Shall  I  arrange  for 
your  return  passage?" 

"You  need  not  trouble." 


222         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Good  night,"  he  said,  turning  away  with  a 
slight  bow. 

The  interview  ended  as  most  domestic  tragedies 
do  eventually,  in  this  utterly  commonplace  way. 
She  had  a  wild  impulse  to  cry  out,  to  call  him  back, 
if  only  to  unsay  some  of  the  things  that  she  had 
said,  but  she  checked  it.  She  had  never  come  so 
near  loving  him  as  at  that  moment  and  she  had 
never  hated  him  so  deeply  as  at  the  next  and  she 
had  never  loved  Richard  Neyland  so  much  as  she 
did  one  instant  and  she  had  never  seen  so  clearly 
the  difference  between  the  two  men  as  she  did  at 
the  other. 

If  her  conscience  was  not  clear  her  soul  was 
relieved  in  a  measure.  Her  husband  himself  had 
suggested  that  she  get  a  divorce,  and  a  divorce 
she  would  get  and  Neyland  she  would  marry. 
That  happiness  she  craved  she  would  take.  She 
buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sobbed  and  sobbed. 
It  did  not  seem  a  very  promising  foundation 
on  which  to  build  happiness.  Well,  having 
chosen  the  course  she  walked  in  it  and  she  did  it 
the  more  deliberately  because  conscience  strove 
to  turn  her  fromftie  path,  and  even  out  of  the  heart 
from  which  proceed  all  manner  of  things  came 
strange  thoughts.  She  was  not  entirely  clear  and 
satisfied.  How  splendidly  Neyland  had  borne  him- 
self in  that  defeat.  How  splendidly  Warburton 
had  shown  himself  in  that  victory!  Why  could 
she  not  have  loved  Warburton  instead  of  the  other? 
How  simple  and  easy  it  would  have  been  then ! 


She  Must  Go  On  223 

She  lay  back  in  the  chair  and  stared  out  into  the 
deeps  of  the  still  night  at  the  silent  stars,  at  the 
softly  moving  sea,  caressing  the  rugged,  rocky 
shore,  her  breath  coming  long  and  shudderingly. 
She  was  driven  again  by  the  wind  of  her  own  pas- 
sions and  by  the  tempest  of  her  own  desires.  She 
thought  she  must  go  on  now.  She  had  burned  her 
boats  upon  the  shore.  She  might  not  cross  the 
other  side.  She  must  go  on.  Whatever  betide, 
whatever  awaited,  she  must  go  on.  Neyland, 
Warburton,  Neyland 


BOOK  IV 
THE  VALLEY  OF  DECISION 


is  225 


CHAPTER   XXII 

ON  DIFFERENT  SHIPS 

ONCE  again  Chrissey  Warburton  stood  on  the 
bridge  of  an  incoming  steamer  and  surveyed  the 
sky  line  of  New  York  as  the  Bermudian  slowly 
made  its  way  up  the  channel.  Scarcely  three 
months  had  intervened  since  she  had  looked  at  the 
same  stupendous  picture  from  the  bridge  of  the 
Acguitania.  And  how  much  water  had  rolled 
down  the  Hudson  or  flowed  under  the  great  bridges 
spanning  the  East  River  since  that  time!  Then 
she  had  sailed  under  a  cloudless  sky,  through  the 
warm  airs  of  a  bright  September  day.  -  Now  it 
was  winter.  The  sky  was  grey  and  sombre. 
Little  flakes  of  snow  were  driven  against  her  pale 
cheek  by  the  cold  north  wind.  Most  of  the 
passengers  had  sought  shelter  in  the  cabins  but 
she  liked  to  face  the  storm  which  somehow  matched 
the  turmoil  in  her  soul.  Outwardly  she  was  well 
protected  from  the  buffets  of  the  brewing  tempest. 
Inwardly  the  enemy  raged  at  will. 

She  had  left  Bermuda  the  second  day  after  the 
terrible  scene  on  the  porch,  and  in  the  day  that 
intervened  between  that  furious,  passionate 

227 


228         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

grapple  of  elemental  forces  she  had  seen  no  one. 
She  had  refused  Father  Smith.  She  had  denied 
herself  to  Neyland.  Warburton  had  made  no 
effort  to  see  her.  Father  Smith  sat  alone  in  the 
study  on  the  day  the  Bermudian  sailed,  looking 
at  a  little  note  which  she  had  sent  him,  and  thus 
it  ran : 

DEAR  FATHER  SMITH: 

After  a  terrible  encounter  between  the  man  I  love 
and  the  man  I  married  it  has  at  last  been  decided,  at 
Mr.  Warburton's  suggestion,  although  I  do  not  blame 
him  for  making  it,  that  I  am  to  get  a  divorce  in  order 
to  marry  Mr.  Neyland.  I  know,  of  course,  what  you 
think  of  this  plan,  what  you  think  of  me,  but  I  can- 
not help  it.  I  am  so  wretched  and  miserable.  Surely 
there  is  some  happiness  for  me  somewhere.  I  am 
going  to  seek  it.  My  way  is  not  your  way.  I  cannot 
ask  your  blessing  upon  what  your  conscience  does 
not  approve.  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  you  but  I 
must  think  of  myself. 

Gratefully  and  sorrowfully  yours, 

C. 

It  had  been  a  difficult  letter  for  the  woman  to 
write  and  the  hardest  part  was  the  subscription. 
She  could  not  bring  herself  to  sign  her  legal  name 
Christianna  Warburton,  to  Chrissey  de  Selden  she 
had  no  right,  her  Christian  name  seemed  unsuited. 
The  initial  had  to  suffice.  The  old  priest  would 
understand.  Yes,  he  understood  many  things. 
He  understood  that  though  the  woman  had  suffered 
much  she  had  not  suffered  sufficiently.  He  real- 


On  Different  Ships  229 

ized  that  the  element  of  self  still  transcended  that 
of  self -sacrifice.  He  prayed  that  the  latter  in  the 
end  might  be  supreme.  Getting  a  divorce  even  in 
the  facile  United  States  was  a  matter  of  some  time. 
Something  might  intervene. 

Accustomed  as  he  was  to  estimate  accurately 
men  and  women  it  seemed  monstrous  that  Chris- 
sey  Warburton  should  give  way  to  a  mere  desire  to 
be  happy  for  the  sake  of  Neyland,  who  could  not 
be  compared  with  Warburton.  Nor  did  he  know 
Warburton  from  hearsay  only.  Chance,  although 
it  took  the  shape  of  Providence  to  the  Priest,  had 
brought  him  in  touch  with  the  other  actor  in  the 
tragic  drama  into  which  he  had  been  thrust. 

Late  on  the  night  of  the  day  of  the  meeting  his 
vigil  in  his  study  was  disturbed  by  a  rap  on  the 
door.  The  church  was  embowered  among  trees  at 
some  distance  from  the  road.  The  rectory  was 
closer  to  the  highway  and  his  study  abutted  upon 
it.  He  was  glad  for  that,  although  sometimes  the 
passing  traffic  annoyed  him,  because  it  made  him 
so  easy  to  reach.  He  always  kept  a  light  in  the 
window. 

One  of  the  sudden  tropic  storms  which  so  fre- 
quently visit  the  island  had  swept  over  it  that  night, 
and  when  he  opened  the  door  he  was  confronted 
by  a  drenched  figure  seeking  shelter.  After  he  had 
flung  himself  out  of  the  house  John  Warburton 
decided  to  go  to  Hamilton  to  one  of  the  larger 
hotels  for  the  night.  Neyland  was  at  the  Belmont, 
which  was  close  at  hand  and  convenient,  but 


230         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Warburton  did  not  desire  to  run  the  risk  of  meet- 
ing him.  Perhaps  the  hardest  part  of  his  promise 
to  his  wife  had  been  to  let  Neyland  alone. 
;  He  had  refrained  from  calling  a  carriage  and  had 
welcomed  the  physical  fatigue  involved  in  the  long 
walk.  He  had  welcomed  the  buffeting  of  the  storm, 
too.  But  when  it  seemed  as  if  the  fountains  of  the 
great  deep  had  been  broken  open  again  and  the 
torrential  rain  had  soaked  through  the  light  over- 
coat he  wore  and  had  drenched  him  to  the  skin,  he 
sought  the  shelter  promised  by  the  light  in  the 
rectory  window. 

"  Come  in,  sir,  come  in, "  said  the  Priest  heartily. 

"If  you  will  give  me  a  few  moments'  shelter," 
said  Warburton  stepping  within,  "until  the 
violence  of  the  storm  has  abated  I  shall  be 
grateful." 

"You  can  stay  the  night,  if  you  will,  sir,"  was 
the  hospitable  reply.  "But  these  storms  stop  as 
suddenly  as  they  begin.  If  you  are  desirous  of 
continuing  on  your  way  you  can  do  so  with 
impunity  in  a  short  time,  I  am  sure.  Allow  me. " 
He  took  Warburton's  wet  overcoat  and  threw  it 
over  a  chair  near  the  fire.  "If  you  will  come 
closer  this  will  help  you  to  dry  out.  I  am  sorry  that 
my  own  clothes  are  inadequate  for  a  man  of  your 
build." 

"I  shall  do  very  well  with  what  I  have,"  re- 
turned the  other  acknowledging  these  courtesies' 
with  a  grave  bow,  "but  I  appreciate  your  kindness 
none  the  less. " 


On  Different  Ships  231 

He  drew  near  the  fire  and  spread  out  his  hands 
toward  the  blaze  as  if  to  draw  in  some  of  the  heat. 

0 

The  Priest  noticed  how  haggard  and  strained  was 
the  face  of  his  strange  guest.  He  had  no  suspicion 
of  his  identity  but  it  seemed  proper  to  introduce 
himself. 

"I  am  Father  Smith,"  he  said,  "the  Rector  of 
this  Parish." 

"My  name  is  Warburton,"  reluctantly  returned 
his  visitor. 

"Is  it  possible?" 

"Yes.     What  does  the  name  mean  to  you?" 

"Everything,"  said  Father  Smith.  "I  have 
formed  the  acquaintance  of  your  wife." 

"Ah!" 

"She  is  a  woman  for  whom  I  have  come  to 
entertain  not  only  profound  respect  but  I  might 
almost  say  as  a  father,  sir,  and  not  merely  of  the 
Church,  a  deep  affection.  Pardon  me,  Mr. 
Warburton, "  continued  the  old  man,  lifting  up  a 
hand  as  he  saw  his  guest's  features  stiffen.  "  I  am 
going  to  take  the  liberty  of  age  and  my  position  to 
speak  frankly.  I  know  by  their  own  confession 
and  by  my  observation  the  whole  story  of  that 
unhappy  young  woman  and  of  Mr.  Neyland. 
Your  wife " 

"Since  you  know  so  much,"  said  Warburton 
coldly,  "although  I  do  not  care  to  discuss  my 
affairs  with  strangers  as  a  rule,  let  me  say  to  you 
that  tonight  Mrs.  Warburton  decided  to  obtain 
a  divorce  from  me. " 


232          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I  cannot  bear  to  hear  that.  I  have  pleaded 
with  her " 

"To  do  her  justice,"  said  Warburton,  "it  was 
my  own  suggestion.  I  found  them — together 
and " 

"Sir,  you  wrong  yourself;  and  that  suggestion,  if 
it  proceeds  from  any  suspicion  of  that  lady " 

"It  needs  no  stranger  to  persuade  me  of  Mrs. 
Warburton' s  entire  innocence  of  any  such  wrong- 
doing," was  the  answer  prompt  and  proud. 

If  only  Chrissey  Warburton  could  have  seen 
and  heard  him  then,  thought  the  Priest. 

"  Why  then  should  you — forgive  me  if  I  speak  the 
language  of  the  world  of  which  I  once  was — play 
into  your  enemy's  hand?" 

"  There  are  words,  sir — have  you  not  known  it?  " 
— replied  the  other,  "which  sometimes  are  worse 
than  deeds.  For  reasons  which  I  cannot  under- 
stand she  loves  this  man  and'  she  hates  me.  She 
could  not  have  spoken  as  she  did  tonight  other- 
wise. " 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Warburton  shivered 
as  he  stood  before  the  fire  under  the  other  man's 
watchful  eye.  The  Priest  noticed  it.  From  a 
little  cupboard  he  brought  forth  a  bottle  and  a 
glass. 

"There  are  some  to  whom  I  would  not  dare  to 
offer  this." 

"Neyland?" 

"Exactly,  but  in  your  case,  sir,  I  fear  you  will 
be  ill." 


On  Different  Ships  233 

Warburton  had  no  scruples  to  prevent  but  that 
night  he  waved  it  away. 

"I  will  not  resort  to  Neyland's  course,"  he  said. 

"  Mr.  Warburton, "  said  Father  Smith,  "how  far 
you  may  be  amenable  to  the  appeal  of  religion,  of 
the  Church,  I  know  not." 

"I  respect  it,  sir,  if  nothing  else." 

"  So  I  appeal  to  you  as  a  man.  You  are,  pardon 
the  liberty,  much  older  than  your  wife.  She  is 
scarcely  more  than  a  girl.  She  has  been  very  un- 
happy through  this  man.  If  she  marries  him  she 
will  be  more  unhappy.  He  is  entirely  unworthy 
of  her.  Strange  how  physical  beauty  and  mental 
attractiveness  are  sometimes  associated  with 
such  moral  weakness  as  I  suspect  in  him. " 

"You  are  right,  sir,  and  that  makes  it  harder 
to  stand  by  and  let  it  go  on. " 

"Don't  stand  by.  Exercise  every  legal  means 
you  can  employ  to  delay  this  course  into  which 
she  has  plunged  herself.  Withdraw  your  consent, 
fight  them  both  at  every  turn.  Gain  time.  It 
gives  God  a  chance  to  work.  Given  opportunity 
she  may  learn  what  life  would  be  with  this  man 
before  it  is  too  late,  and  per  contra  those  qualities 
which  I  am  sure  you  possess  may  at  last  impress 
her." 

"It  is  a  powerful  plea  and  ably  urged,  sir,"  said 
Warburton,  "but  in  my  case  unavailing.  That 
has  passed  between  us  which  can  never  be  forgot. " 

"Forgot,  no!"  said  the  priest  quickly.  "We 
never  forget  unless  we  are  of  so  soft  a  consistency 


234          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

that  we  retain  no  impression  even  though  made 
by  the  sharpest  tool;  to  forget  is  not  easy  but  to 
remember  and  forgive  is  divine,  sir." 

"I  am  not  capable  of  it.  She  has  chosen  her 
path,  she  must  walk  in  it.  I  cannot  even  enlighten 
her  as  to  the  character  of  the  man.  My  motives 
would  be  misconstrued  should  I  attempt  it.  I  can 
hear  you  no  further,  sir,"  continued  Warburton, 
checking  the  eager  Priest.  "Why  I  have  per- 
mitted my  private  affairs  to  be  discussed  I  scarcely 
understand.  It  is  not  my  habit. " 

"I  can  well  believe  that." 

"Yet  you  seem  to  invite  confidences." 

"I  have  not  been  receiving  them  for  well  nigh 
fifty  years  for  nought,  sir." 

"So  it  would  seem.  You  will  respect  mine,  I 
am  sure.  The  rain  has  stopped.  I  must  be  on 
my  way.  For  your  interest  I  thank  you.  Good- 
night." 

He  seized  his  coat,  somewhat  dried  by  the  fire, 
bowed  to  the  Priest,  and  turned  to  the  door. 
Father  Smith  anticipated  him.  He  was  too  wise 
in  dealing  with  men  to  argue  further  with  War- 
burton. 

"Good-night,  sir,"  he  said.  "I  shall  not  cease 
to  pray  for  you  and  your  wife. " 

"Pray  for  Neyland,"  said  Warburton  looking 
back.  "  He  needs  it  most  of  all. " 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  the  old  man  to 
himself  as  he  watched  Warburton' s  figure  dis- 
appear in  the  darkness. 


On  Different  Ships  235 

Warbtirton  was  to  have  another  meeting  with 
Neyland  the  next  day.  He  came  back  the  next 
morning  to  give  the  servants  directions  as  to  the 
closing  of  the  house  and  their  departure  after  his 
wife  had  gone.  The  Bermudian  was  not  to  sail 
until  the  following  day,  so  he  knew  that  she  was 
still  there.  But  he  made  no  effort  to  see  her. 
She  had  told  him  the  night  before  that  she  would 
arrange  her  own  departure  and  henceforth  adminis- 
ter her  own  affairs.  He  took  her  at  her  word. 

Coming  down  the  long  avenue  bordered  with 
oleanders — how  he  loathed  those  flowers  and  their 
odour ! — he  met  Neyland.  Warburton  gave  no  sign 
that  he  even  saw  him. 

"Stop,"  cried  Neyland  confronting  him. 

Warburton  moved  to  one  side  and  sought  to  pass 
on  but  Neyland  would  have  none  of  it.  He  thrust 
out  his  hand  threateningly  and  then  Warburton 
found  voice. 

"If  you  lay  a  hand  on  me  I'll  kill  you,  promise 
or  no  promise." 

' '  Promise !    What  do  you  mean  ? ' ' 

"At  my  wife's  plea  I  agreed  to  let  you  alone." 

"  I  don't  need  protection  from  you,  Warburton, " 
cried  Neyland  passionately.  "I'll  shelter  myself 
behind  no  woman.  Forget  her  plea. " 

"If  I  did, "  said  the  other  man  grimly,  "it  would 
"be  the  worse  for  you. " 

"You  are  stronger  than  1,"  said  Neyland. 
"I'm  not  altogether  myself  these  days  and  sol 
made  ready  for  you." 


236         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

He  whipped  out  a  short  heavy  automatic  and 
presented  it.  Warburton  looked  at  him. 

"The  coward's  refuge." 

"No,  an  equalization." 

"Well,  why  don't  you  shoot?  That  would  be 
an  ideal  ending.  The  blood  of  the  husband  to 
accompany  the  honour  of  the  wife.  You  hesi- 
tate.' '  Warburton  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
"I'll  wait,"  he  continued  quite  quietly.  "When 
you  have  decided  you  need  not  trouble  to  let  me 
know,  just  pull  the  trigger." 

There  was  a  long  pause.  Neyland's  fingers 
itched  to  press  the  trigger  but  he  could  not  do  it 
though  the  rage  in  his  heart  grew  and  grew. 

"I  have  business  of  importance  to  attend  to," 
said  Warburton  at  last.  "Perhaps  I  am  sheltered 
by  some  promise  you  made  to  Mrs.  Warburton 
just  now.  If  that  be  so,  as  her  husband  I  will 
absolve  you. " 

"I  have  not  seen  her.  She  refused  herself  to 
me." 

"It  is  a  little  late,  perhaps,  for  that,"  said  War- 
burton,  "but  you  two  will  see  enough  of  each 
other  later  on." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  see  no  reason  why  I  shouldn't  tell  you  that 
Mrs.  Warburton  is  to  seek  a  divorce  to  marry  you. 
I  could  not  wish  her  greater  misfortune.  Now 
will  you  shoot?" 

"No." 

Neyland  passionately  threw  the  pistol  from  him. 


On  Different  Ships  237 

"I  cannot  shoot  an  unarmed  man  even  though 
I  hate  him  as  much  as  I  hate  you.  We  are  equal 
now.  You  beat  me  last  night.  Today  may  be 
another  story. " 

"No,"  said  Warburton.  "We  are  not  equal. 
I  am  as  much  your  master  physically  as  I  am 
mentally  and  every  other  way.  With  me  a  pro- 
mise is  a  promise.  You  are  safe  from  me. " 

Neyland  thought  to  spring  at  him  but  the  moral 
courage  of  the  stronger  man  daunted  the  weaker. 
After  a  moment  of  hesitation  Warburton  deliber- 
ately turned  his  back  on  Neyland  and  walked  way. 
The  latter  ran  across  the  road  and  picked  up  the 
pistol.  In  his  mad  passion  his  first  thought  had 
been  to  turn  it  on  himself,  but  there  was  Chrissey. 
After  a  few  moments  of  indecision  he  thrust  the 
weapon  back  in  his  pocket  and  went  toward  the 
hotel.  He  found  a  note  there  from  her.  She  told 
him  what  he  had  just  learned  from  Warburton, 
that  she  was  going  to  seek  a  divorce  and  that  she 
was  leaving  on  the  Bermudian  in  the  morning.  He 
must  not  attempt  to  communicate  with  her  or  to 
see  her  on  the  island.  He  must  go  home  on  some 
other  ship.  It  was  a  cold  note  and  yet  the  post- 
script gave  him  some  comfort.  It  ran  this  way: 

Oh,  my  dear,  my  love  and  life,  will  there  ever  be  any 
happiness  for  me,  for  you?  Come  to  me  in  New 
York,  at  the  Tayloes  before  I  go  west. 

It  was  as  if  she  had  written  the  cold,  reserved, 
formal  note  under  terrible  constraint  and  at  the 


238          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

end  had  permitted  herself  to  be  swept  away  by  a 
wave  of  passion.  It  was  the  only  comfort  Neyland 
got  out  of  the  whole  situation.  He  had  been 
beaten  physically  by  Warburton  on  the  terrace  at 
night.  He  had  been  cowed  mentally  by  Warbur- 
ton on  the  driveway  in  the  morning.  He  was 
denied  access  to  the  woman  he  loved,  through 
whom,  he  most  unjustly  thought,  all  his  humilia- 
tion had  come  upon  him,  and  there  was  but  one 
brief  sentence  upon  which  he  could  build  any 
hope. 

Well,  there  was  one  refuge  left  him.  He  had 
kept  straight  so  long.  In  his  agony  and  shame 
and  abandonment  he  fell  again  and  great  was  the 
fall  of  him.  A  few  days  thereafter  a  tramp 
steamer  bound  for  Charleston  touched  at  the  port. 
The  wretched,  sodden,  blear-eyed,  broken-souled, 
wreck  of  humanity  bought  passage  on  her  back  to 
the  United  States. 

As  Chrissey  Warburton  stood  on  the  bridge  of 
the  Bermudian  that  winter  morning  there  swept  in- 
to her  vision  off  to  starboard  a  great  white,  swiftly- 
moving  pleasure  cruiser.  It  needed  no  second 
glance  to  tell  her  that  it  was  the  Christianna.  On 
her  bridge  stood  Warburton.  He  knew  the  Ber- 
mudian perfectly.  He  had  sailed  nearly  twelve 
hours  later  than  the  steamer,  the  yacht  not  having 
arrived  at  her  departure,  but  he  had  driven  the 
Christianna  as  he  had  never  attempted  to  drive 
her  namesake,  and  they  were  coming  into  New 
York  Harbour  together. 


On  Different  Ships  239 

Was  he  aware  of  the  small,  fur-clad  figure  on  the 
bridge  of  the  passenger  steamer?  She  looked 
long  and  earnestly  at  him  but  he  only  stared 
straight  ahead,  as  they  swept  up  the  harbour,  side 
by  side  as  before,  but  now  on  different  ships. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
"LA  DONNA  E  MOBILE" 

"SIGNORINA,"  exclaimed  the  little  Duke,  "par- 
don, Signora  I  should  say. " 

"Signorina  will  do,"  returned  Chrissey  War- 
burton.  ' '  Coming  events  you  know, ' '  she  laughed 
harshly. 

The  Duke  did  not  understand.  Chrissey  War- 
burton  had  been  ushered  into  the  morning  room  of 
the  Tayloe  apartment  into  which  the  Duke  had 
also  come  by  chance.  It  was  another  evidence  of 
Warburton's  forethought  which  intensified  her 
bitterness  that  she  had  been  met  at  the  wharf  by 
Warburton's  secretary  with  her  car.  She  would 
have  refused  it  but  she  was  not  quite  ready  for  the 
open  scandal  yet,  although  she  had  noted  the  man's 
surprise  when  she  ordered  him  to  drive  to  the  Tay- 
loe apartment  on  Park  Avenue  rather  than  her  own 
home. 

She  had  not  said  anything  about  her  coming  to 
the  Tayloes.  She  was  not  expected,  of  course. 
The  Colonel  had  gone  down  to  the  Trust  Com- 
pany of  which  he  was  the  president  and  Rose  was 
just  getting  dressed  for  a  reception,  so  Chrissey 

240 


"La  Donna  6  Mobile"  241 

Warburton  had  been  left  alone  for  a  little  time  until 
the  Duke  came.  Into  the  room  at  this  juncture 
burst  Rose  herself. 

"My  dear  Chris,"  she  cried,  taking  her  in  her 
arms  and  smiling  broadly  at  the  Duke  over  her 
friend's  head.  Then  she  held  her  off  and  looked 
at  her.  "Why  Chris,  what  have  you  done  to  your- 
self? We  thought  you'd  come  back  completely 
restored.  You  actually  look  worse  than  when  you 
left  us,"  she  ran  on,  in  her  surprise  and  anxiety, 
forgetting  the  probable  effect  of  what  she  was 
saying. 

"The  Signora  Warburton  is  tired  from  the 
journey,"  suggested  the  Duke. 

"It  isn't  that,"  answered  the  newcomer.  "I 
might  as  well  tell  you  right  away. " 

"My  dear,"  interposed  Rose  Tayloe  quickly, 
suspecting  what  had  happened  and  anxious  to 
prevent  words  which  might  be  difficult  to  unsay 
and  which  in  calmer  moods  might  not  be  said  at 
all,  "don't  tell  us  anything  now.  I  was  going  out 
with  the  Duke  to  the  Dennison  reception,  but  you 
won't  take  it  amiss  if  we  don't  go,  Enrico?" 

"Most  certainly  not.  The  reception  is  nothing. 
Your  first  duty  is  to  your  friend.  Signora,  permit 
me."  He  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it  in  his  old 
world  way.  "I  shall  leave  you.  The  opera  to- 
night, Signorina?" 

"I  shan't  go,"  said  Rose  quickly. 

"Yes,  you  must,  and  I,  too,  if  you  will  take  me, " 
said  her  friend  promptly. 

16 


242          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"We  shall  be  honoured, "  said  the  Duke. 

"Perhaps  not  after  you  hear." 

"Oh,   Chrissey,  don't  speak  now.     Wait." 

"I  must." 

"I  shall  withdraw  and  leave  you  and  my  Rose 
alone. " 

"No,  you  must  hear.  The  sooner  everybody 
hears  it  the  better.  Don't  stop  me.  You  called 
me  Signorina,  a  moment  since,  Duke.  I  intend 
to  be  that." 

"You  mean?" 

"A  divorce." 

"Oh,  Chris!" 

"Signora,  think  what  you  do." 

"Mr.  Warburton  himself  suggested  it." 

"Impossible,"  cried  Rose.  "Why  he  worships 
the  ground  you  walk  on. " 

"I  hate  him,"  answered  the  wife  dry  eyed  and 
hard,  closing  her  mouth  resolutely. 

"But  why?" 

"Does  one  know  why  one  hates  or  why  one 
loves?"  was  the  answer.  "We  cannot  live  to- 
gether and  so  I  shall  get  a  divorce. " 

"It's  that  wretched  Dick  Neyland  who  is  at  the 
bottom  of  this, "  said  Rose. 

' '  How  dare  you  speak  of  him  in  that  way  ? "  burst 
out  the  other,  aflame  to  defend  the  man  she  loved. 

"Then  it  is  he." 

"I  am  going  to  marry  him  when  the  law  sets 
me  free. " 

"But  the  Church,"  said  Rose. 


"La  Donna  e  Mobile"  243 

"Can  the  Church  sanctify  a  union  like  mine 
and  John  Warburton's?" 

"Perhaps  not,  but  can  it  sanctify  one  between 
you  and  Richard  Neyland?" 

"I  shall  do  without  its  sanction  then," 
answered  the  woman.  "I  tried  it  once.  This 
time  I  shall  try  the  State. " 

"But  no  State  is  above  God,  Signora, "  said  the 
Duke  gravely. 

"Not  in  your  religion  perhaps  but " 

"In  no  religion,"  persisted  Attavanti.  "Sig- 
nora, have  you  thought,  have  you  considered? 
What  says  your  own  beautiful  service?  'For 
better,  for  worse ' ' 

"Don't  quote  that  at  me.  The  Priest  has 
already  done  so.  I  am  young,  my  life  is  before  me. 
I  am  a  woman  to  be  wooed  and  won,  not  to  be 
bought  and  possessed ;  to  be  loved  and  cared  for, 
not  to  be  taken  and  held.  I  have  a  right  to  my 
happiness  even  as  you  have  a  right  to  yours. 
If  not  with  Richard  Neyland  then  some  other." 

"Oh,  Chris,  think!" 

"Do  you  think  I  haven't?  Do  you  think  I 
haven't  agonized?  It's  settled.  I've  decided. 
It  was  his  own  suggestion  anyway.  He's  not  half 
a  man  to  me.  If  he  had  seized  me,  mastered  me 
that  night — if  he  had  beaten  me  I  might " 

"Don't  let's  talk  about  it  any  more  now,  dear, 
you're  overwrought,  you  need  rest,  you ' 

"I  shall  not  be  a  recluse.  I  don't  care  what 
people  say  or  how  soon  they  learn  it,  the  sooner 


244         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

the  better.  If  you  and  the  Colonel  would  rather 
not  be  mixed  up  in  it  I'll  go  to  a  hotel.  I'll  have 
to  fight  the  battle  alone  anyway. " 

"You  must  stay  here.  Father  wouldn't  have  it 
otherwise,  nor  would  I. " 

"Very  well,  then.  My  maid  will  soon  be  here 
with  my  trunks.  If  you  will  keep  me  until  I  can 
make  arrangements  to  go  west  I  shall  be  very 
grateful  to  you.  And  now  may  I  go  to  my  room  ? 
I  want  to  be  in  good  trim  for  tonight.  What  is  the 
opera?" 

"Rigoletto  with  Caruso,  Farrar  and  Amato, 
Signora. " 

' '  Good,  I  love  the  opera.     'La  Donna  e  Mobile. ' ' 
She  made  a  brave  attempt  to  hum  the  air.    "  'How 
fickle  women  are!'"  she  laughed.     "We  all  know 
that,  Duke." 

"I  will  show  you  to  your  room,  Chris, "  said  Rose. 
"Wait  for  me  here,  Duke. " 

"No,"    said   Chrissey,    "I   know   your  apart- 
ment perfectly.     Which  room  is  it?" 
"It's  the  front  guest  room  on  the  next  floor." 

"Very  well,  you  stay  here  with  the  Duke. 
There's  my  maid  outside  the  door  now.  You  can 
send  her  to  me  and " 

"But  I  must  go  with  you." 

"No.     I  won't  hear  of  it. " 

She  escaped,  thrusting  Rose  gently  back  and 
mounted  the  stairs  of  the  duplex  apartment  with 
a  light  foot  if  heavy  heart. 

"And  so  the  Signora  Warburton  would  be  free, " 


"La  Donna  e  Mobile"  245 

said  the  Duke  quietly.  "It  is  very  sad,  indeed, 
that  she  finds  out  that  she  does  not  love  her  hus- 
band— too  late,  "he  added  shaking  his  head  mourn- 
fully. 

Into  Rose Tayloe's  mind  shot  a  sudden  suspicion. 
She  looked  at  the  little  Duke.  She  noticed  his 
bent  head,  his  deep  thought.  The  suspicion  grew 
to  a  certainty.  She  slowly  slipped  the  glove  from 
her  left  hand,  more  slowly  she  drew  from  the  third 
finger  a  superb  solitaire.  She  laid  it  gently  on  the 
table. 

"Signore,"  she  said  softly,  striving  to  speak 
with  even  voice  but  with  rather  ill  success,  and 
when  Attavanti  looked  at  her  in  surprise  he  noticed 
that  her  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

"What  is  this?"  he  exclaimed,  taking  a  step 
toward  her. 

She  met  his  movement  by  a  backward  step, 
which  kept  them  still  apart. 

"Your  ring, "  she  said,  pointing  to  the  table. 

The  Duke  lifted  it  up,  examined  it  carefully, 
stared  at  her  in  wonderment. 

"Do  you  find  it  not  to  your  liking?"  he  asked 
in  pained  amazement. 

No  answer. 

"Is  there  a  flaw  in  the  stone?" 

Still  silence. 

"Or  the  donor?"  he  added,  compressing  his  lips 
and  looking  very  strangely  at  her. 

"Neither,"  she  answered  at  last. 

"What  then?" 


246         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Your  freedom." 

"My  freedom?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?  Have  I  displeased  you?  Have  I 
failed?  Havel ?" 

"There  is  Chrissey  de  Selden.  She  will  be  free 
too.  You  loved  her  before. " 

"My  Rose,"  said  the  little  Italian  passionately. 
"Why  do  you  pierce  my  heart  with  these  wild 
words?  What  have  I  done  that  you  should  treat 
me  like  this?" 

"You  said  'too  late.'     You  looked " 

The  Duke  was  unique  among  his  people,  perhaps 
it  was  a  quality  he  had  acquired  in  his  travels,  but 
he  possessed  a  keen  sense  of  humour.  He  laughed. 
Rose  Tayloe  possessed  a  sense  of  humour  too,  but 
it  was  in  abeyance  then. 

"How  dare  you  laugh  at  me  when  my  heart  is 
breaking?"  she  cried. 

She  sank  down  in  the  chair  and  hid  her  face  in 
her  hands  and  this  time  the  tears  did  come  forth. 
The  Duke  liked  her  best  when  she  sat  down  and  he 
stood  up.  Then  he  could  look  down  upon  her  but 
this  time  the  advantage  was  foregone.  He  knelt 
by  her  side  and  looked  up  at  her. 

"My  Rose, "  he  said  in  his  broken  English,  "do 
you  think  that  after  I  had  known  and  loved  you 
there  could  be  any  other  woman  in  the  world  for 
me?" 

"But  Chrissey  Warburton  is  so " 

"You  know  I  am  thankful  every  hour  I  pass  in 


"La  Donna  6  Mobile"  247 

your  presence  that  she  would  have  none  of  me, 
that  her  rejection  of  me  gave  me  a  chance  to  know 
you,  but  even  if  I  had  not  known  you  there  is  still 
a  barrier. " 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"In  my  Church  and  in  accordance  with  the 
custom  of  my  house,  marriage  is  for  life.  I  could 
not  hand  down  to  my  children  the  great  traditions 
of  the  Attavanti  through  a  woman  who  had  been 
divorced. " 

"But  if  it  were  so  and  you  could,  what  then?" 

"My  Rose,  my  beautiful  Rose,  my  Rose  of  the 
world,"  said  the  Duke  earnestly,  "how  can  I  assure 
you?  I  sympathize  deeply  with  the  Signora.  I 
have  deep  admiration  for  her  and  much  respect  for 
her,  but  you," — he  rose  to  his  feet  and  put  his  arm 
about  her  shoulder,  turned  her  face  up  toward  him, 
— "look  at  me.  With  the  Signora  Warburton  it 
would  be  impossible,  but  were  you  in  her  place  I  am 
afraid  I  should  have  a  hard  battle  for  Church  and 
family.  No.  The  good  God  has  given  your  heart 
to  me  and  you  have  taken  mine  by  storm.  I  would 
not  change  places  with  all  men  in  the  world  so  long 
as  you  are  mine."  He  bent  his  head  and  kissed 
away  the  tears.  Then  he  kissed  her  on  her  up- 
turned lips.  "Carissima  mia,  you  will  take  back 
the  ring  now?  See.  I  put  it  on  your  pretty  hand 
again.  It  is  less  pure,  less  beautiful  than  you,  and 
the  fire  that  shines  from  it  is  cold  to  that  which 
burns  in  my  heart. " 

It    was    very    extravagant.     It    was    entirely 


248         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

un-American.  It  was  extremely  foreign.  Yet  it 
was  very  comforting  to  Rose  Tayloe.  She  leaned 
back  on  the  Duke's  breast,  glad  that  she  was  sitting 
down  and  looking  up  at  him  who  boasted  not  so 
many  inches  but  every  one  of  them  a  lover  and  a 
man. 

"You  shall  never  sing '  La  Donna  e  Mobile '  about 
me, "  she  whispered. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

DISAPPROVAL 

CHRISSEY  WARBURTON  and  Colonel  Tayloe 
had  a  long  talk  that  night  between  the  dinner  and 
the  opera.  For  that  function  she  dressed  herself 
in  her  most  magnificent  gown.  Her  rare,  clear, 
cold  complexion,  almost  transparent  like  light 
exquisite  egg-shell  china,  had  been  one  of  Chrissey 
Warburton's  charms  She  decided  that  this  was 
the  night  she  could  not  be  pale  and  for  almost 
the  first  time  in  her  life  she  came  down  with  a  vivid 
colour  which  did  not  naturally  inhere  in  her  cheeks 
and  which  somehow  changed  her  whole  appear- 
ance. If  she  could  have  blondined  her  dark  hair 
in  so  brief  a  time  in  her  reckless  mood  she  might 
have  tried  it.  She  wanted  to  be  another  woman 
outwardly  as  well  as  inwardly,  physically  as  well 
as  mentally,  and  her  conversation  like  her  colour 
was  vivid  and  sparkling  as  well  as  unnatural. 

The  old  Colonel  looked  upon  her  intended  course 
with  frank  disapproval.  He  did  not  hesitate  to 
express  it  in  the  library. 

"You  are  doing  wrong;  morally  and  from  every 
other  point  of  view.  I  have  known  John  Warbur- 

249 


250         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

ton  for  half  a  score  of  years.  I  knew  your  father 
well.  I  have  known  Neyland  ever  since  he  was 
a  boy  and  his  father  before  him.  He  comes 
legitimately  by  all  his  failings.  His  father  was 
stricken  to  death  and  his  ending  was  the  natural 
sequence  of  his  life.  His  mother  died  in  a  retreat . ' ' 
This  was  much  from  the  Colonel,  who  would  fain 
not  speak  ill  of  the  dead  especially  in  the  case  of 
a  woman.  "I  have  never  blamed  him  much. 
He  is  a  man  of  brilliant  parts  and  if  he  only  had 
stability  and  resisting  power  he  could  be  anything. 
The  way  he  has  conserved  the  remnant  of  his 
father's  fortune  that  was  left  him  and  even  in- 
creased it  in  spite  of  his  dissipations  shows  his  head 
for  business.  I  want  to  be  just  to  him.  His  bril- 
liant adventure,  his  soldiering,  his  exploring,  have 
demonstrated  his  capacity.  It  is  the  weakness  of 
his  will  that  ruins  him.  He  can't  resist  tempta- 
tion. He  will  never  be  anything  different,  I 
fear,  though  I  don't  let  him  know  that.  Drink  is 
his  undoing." 

"But  with  me." 

"He  will  only  drag  you  down  too." 

"I  can  uplift  him." 

"Women  since  time  and  the  world  began  have 
said  and  thought  that,"  observed  the  Colonel 
savagely,  "but  I  am  older  and  more  experienced 
than  you.  It  is  impossible." 

"I  would  rather  fail  with  him  than  succeed 
with  another." 

"Do  you  love  him  so  much?" 


Disapproval  25 1 

''I  love  him  enough  to  have  forgiven  him  Sor- 
rento. I  love  him  enough  to  be  sensible  of  his 
weaknesses  and  yet  to  continue  to  love  him.  I 
love  him  enough  to  believe  that  with  me  he  will  be 
different." 

"And  Warburton.  Now  there  is  a  man,  strong, 
able,  clean." 

"I  admit  everything  you  say  but  if  he  were  an 
angel  and  I  did  not  love  him " 

"  You  might  learn  if  you  would  only  put  Neyland 
out  of  your  head  and  try." 

"He  is  not  in  my  head,  Colonel,  he  is  in  my 
heart.  I  could  manage  my  head  but  not  my 
heart. " 

"Nonsense." 

"No,  it  is  not  nonsense.  Think  back  to  the 
days  when  you  were  young,  and  besides  I  hate 
John  Warburton  as  much  for  his  perfections  as 
anything  else.  There  has  been  but  one  time  when 
I  felt  any  different." 

"And  when  was  that?" 

"Down  in  Bermuda  on  the  veranda  when  he 
would  have  killed  Mr.  Neyland  but  for  my  inter- 
ference." 

The  Colonel  threw  up  his  hands.  He  did  not 
voice  his  thoughts  but  it  was  in  his  mind  to  ask 
why  she  had  interfered.  Chrissey  Warburton  read 
that  thought. 

"Poor  Richard,  even  his  friends!  Though  all 
the  world  be  against  him  I  will " 

"When  a  woman  makes  up  her  mind,"  said  the 


252          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Colonel,  shaking  his  head  gloomily,  "I  suppose  that 
is  the  end  of  it." 

"Yes.  Now  I  want  nothing  from  Mr.  Warbur- 
ton  but  my  freedom.  He  is  trustee  of  my  fortune. 
Will  you  act  in  that  capacity?  I  mean,  will  you 
attend  to  the  legal  business  of  having  it  put  in  my 
own  control  and  advise  me  what  I  shall  do  with  it?  " 

" Of  course, "  said  the  Colonel.  "I  hate  to  do  it 
but  it  had  better  be  I  than — 

"Do  you  mean  Mr.  Neyland?" 

"No,  no,  I  mean  strangers  and " 

"Under  the  circumstances  it  couldn't  possibly 
be  Mr.  Neyland." 

"Certainly  not." 

"And  that's  why  I  chose  you." 

"And  if  you  persist  in  this  mad  course  it  will  be 
easy  to  effect  the  change  from  me  to  whomsoever 
you  will  later. " 

"Thank  you." 

"Now  there  is  one  thing  more.  I  think  I  have 
earned  the  right  to  say  any  reasonable  thing  to  you 
and  some  unreasonable  ones,  too,  perhaps." 

"You  have  every  right." 

' '  Thank  you.  I  want  you  to  stay  right  here  while 
you  are  in  New  York.  I  want  to  give  you  what- 
ever counsel  and  protection  I  can  for  your  sake,  for 
the  sake  of  your  father  and  mother,  and  for  the 
sake  of  John  Warburton  as  well." 

He  was  going  to  say  it  would  be  Warburton's 
wish  but  she  interrupted  him  quickly. 

"  Leave  him  out  please.     He  no  longer  counts. " 


Disapproval  253 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Colonel,  "I  advise 
you,  I  even  implore  you,  to  avail  yourself  of 
our  hospitality,  but  I  feel  compelled  to  sug- 
gest that  under  the  circumstances  it  would  be 
better  if  Richard  Neyland  did  not  call  upon  you 
here." 

Chrissey  sprang  to  her  feet,  for  a  moment  she 
was  impelled  to  protest  with  vehemence,  to  declare 
that  she  would  not  remain  where  her  lover  could 
not  come.  The  Colonel  realized  the  meaning  of 
her  impetuous  movement. 

"My  dear,"  he  said,  taking  her  firmly  by  the 
shoulders,  "you  must  see  the  propriety  of  this. 
You  must  be  governed  by  me  in  this.  It  only 
arises  from  my  care  for  your  good  name.  I  do 
not  want  you  coupled  publicly  with  any  man 
until " 

"It's  hard,"  said  the  woman  slowly,  "but  I 
suppose  you  are  right.  It  shall  be  as  you  say. 
Mr.  Neyland  will  be  coming  back  from  Bermuda 
shortly." 

"  I  suppose  so.  I  will  endeavour  to  see  him  first 
and  tell  him." 

"Will  you  tell  him  to  write  me?" 

"I  can't  exclude  him  from  the  United  States 
mails,"  said  the  Colonel  grimly. 

The  next  day  the  Colonel  had  a  bad  quarter  of 
an  hour  with  Warburton  at  his  office  in  the  War- 
burton  Trust  Company. 

"Look  here,  John,  you  don't  know  how  I  feel 
about  this  whole  affair.  You  don't  know  how  I 


254          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

have  tried  to  make  your  wife  see.  She  won't 
listen  to  me." 

"I  beg  you  not  to  influence  her." 

"But,  good  God,  man,  you're  so  much  older 
than  she." 

"To  my  sorrow,  yes." 

"Can't  you  do  something?" 

"Nothing." 

"And  you  wouldn't  if  you  could,  would  you?" 
burst  out  the  Colonel  wrathfully. 

"  No,  you  remember  before  we  were  married  you 
asked  me  if  she  loved  me.  It  was  a  natural  ques- 
tion but  I  never  asked  her.  I  was  afraid  to.  I 
knew  she  didn't.  I  thought  I  could  make  her  love 
me.  I  can't.  You  and  Mrs.  Tayloe  were  per- 
fectly mated,  devoted  to  one  another.  You  don't 
know  what  a  hell  it  is  to  be  married  without 
mutual  affection.  I  pass  for  a  cold,  reserved  man 
and  I  suppose  I  am,  but  no  torture  could  equal 
what  I  have  gone  through  for  a  month."  The 
great  head  bent  down  for  a  moment.  The  broad 
brow  rested  against  a  clenched  hand.  "And  if 
it  has  been  a  hell  for  me  who  loved  her  what  must 
it  have  been  for  her?  Indeed  I  know  what  it  must 
have  been.  I  have  had  evidence  of  it." 

"Evidence?" 

"Yes.  I  believe  you  and  she  are  the  only  per- 
sons on  earth,  now  that  Mrs.  de  Selden  is  dead, 
who  know  the  secret  of  my  birth." 

"If  the  whole  world  had  known,  you  have  lived 
it  down.  You  have  made  your  name. " 


Disapproval  255 

Coming  from  the  Colonel,  who  valued  family 
and  ancestry  above  everything,  this  was  a  great 
admission. 

"It  isn't  that,"  said  Warburton.  "In  the  pas- 
sion of  her  hatred  of  me  and  her  devotion  to  Ney- 
land  when  I  said  she  dishonoured  my  name  she 
replied — 

"Impossible!"  exclaimed  the  Colonel. 

"She  said  I  had  no  name,"  said  Warburton. 
"And  that  it  was  that  opened  my  eyes  to  her  feel- 
ings. I  told  her  to  get  a  divorce.  I  have  but  one 
regret  save  the  eternal  one  that  I  cannot  win  her 
love." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  That  she  should  give  her  affection  to  a  man  like 
Neyland." 

"I  know  all  about  him.  He  will  never  be  any- 
thing but  what  he  is  now,  I  fear." 

"And  in  leaving  me  for  him  she  exchanges  one 
misery  for  another  and  by  heaven  she  loses  by 
the  exchange." 

"Why  don't  you  keep  her  then?" 

"I  can't.  She  has  made  her  choice.  I  don't 
want  to  refer  to  this  ever  again,  Colonel.  First 
the  Priest  and  now  you.  I  will  never  get  over  this. 
Oh,  I  don't  mean  that  I'll  die  or  do  myself  any 
harm.  I'm  not  that  kind,  but  I  have  loved  that 
girl  ever  since  she  has  been  a  woman  and  before. 
I  think  everything  I  possess,  everything  the  future 
holds  for  me,  can  not  compensate  for  this.  My 
God,  Colonel,  do  you  think  I  could  give  her  up  to 


256          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

any  one  if  I  didn't  love  her  as  I  do.  I  think  if  her 
happiness  were  not  above  everything  I  would  kill 
him,  yes,  and  her,  too." 

"It  might  be  better  if  you  did  one  of  these 
things,  or  both,"  said  the  Colonel.  "Well,  we'll 
not  talk  about  it  any  more.  About  her  estate, 
her  securities?" 

"  I  have  had  them  all  prepared  for  transfer  to  her 
own  care.  She  could  have  had  them  when  she 
came  of  age  but  she  preferred  to  let  me  administer 
them  as  usual." 

"She  wants  you  to  turn  them  over  to  me." 

"Very  well.  You  know  her  fortune  is  by  no 
means  inconsiderable.  Her  father  left  about  a  mil- 
lion to  his  wife  and  daughter  and  I  have  here  the 
report  of  my  expert  accountant,  the  amount  is 
now  between  five  and  six  millions  and  all  in  first- 
class  negotiable  securities.  The  formal  details 
of  the  transfer  shall  be  arranged  between  our 
lawyers  and  any  alimony " 

"She  wouldn't  take  a  cent.  She  charged  me  to 
receive  nothing  but  her  own. " 

"That  is  like  her.  Everything  here  is  her  own 
legitimately.  One  more  question  before  we  dis- 
miss the  subject.  What  are  her  plans?" 

"I  do  not  quite  know.  She  had  not  decided 
but  I  think  she  intends  to  go  west." 

"Reno?" 

"Yes,  as  soon  as  possible." 

"She  is  in  a  hurry,"  said  Warburton  bitterly. 
"Well,  I  can  understand." 


Disapproval  257 

"And  there  is  one  thing  I  also  want  to  say  before 
we  dismiss  the  subject.  There  is  going  to  be  no 
love-making  in  my  house. " 

Warburton  nodded.  He  understood  what  was 
back  of  the  old  Colonel's  remarks. 

"Now  if  you  please  we  will  go  over  the  securi- 
ties and  thereafter  we  will  not  refer  to  the  affair 
again.  By  the  way,  when  will  Rose  and  the  Duke 
be  married?" 

"Early  in  January,  the  seventh,"  said  the  Col- 
onel. "The  Duke's  leave  of  absence  is  about 
to  expire  and  they  have  agreed  on  that  date. " 

"And  Rose  goes  to  Italy,  I  presume?" 

"Yes.  I  don't  know  what  I'll  do  without 
her." 

"Colonel,  you  only  rent  your  apartment. 
Come  and  live  with  me. " 

"Are  you  going  to  keep  up  that  big  Fifth 
Avenue  house?" 

"Yes,  but  I  shall  be  terribly  lonely  there  and 
it  would  be  a  real  charity  if  you  would  come.  We 
shall  be  two  old  men  together. " 

"You,  an  old  man!"  said  the  Colonel,  shaking 
his  white  head  and  looking  down  at  the  colossal 
American. 

"A  man  is  old  when  his  hopes  are  dead  and  the 
joy  of  life  is  gone.  You  are  a  mere  boy  beside 
me, "  answered  the  other  bitterly. 

18 


CHAPTER    XXV 

ENCOURAGEMENT 

PEOPLE  of  such  prominence  as  the  Warburtons 
could  not  live  apart  in  New  York  without  arousing 
comment.  It  soon  became  known  that  the  wife 
was  with  the  Tayloes  while  her  husband  dwelt 
in  the  big  Fifth  Avenue  house.  Rumour  was 
instantly  busy  with  the  possibilities  of  the  situ- 
ation. Warburton  refused  to  see  interviewers  and 
they  could  get  no  access  to  his  wife,  while  Colonel 
Tayloe  drove  them  from  him  with  vehement  con- 
tempt. Subtle  insinuations  appeared  in  such 
papers  as  The  Gossip  of  the  Town,  not  libelous,  not 
actionable,  incapable  of  disavowal,  but  none  the  less 
unmistakably  pointing  to  Warburton  and  his  wife. 

And  one  of  them  fell  under  the  notice  of  Mrs. 
Billy  Alton.  There  was  a  formal  acquaintance 
between  the  Warburtons,  the  Tayloes,  and  the 
Altons.  They  moved  in  the  same  circle,  but  there 
was  no  intimacy  between  the  families.  Neyland 
found  Alton  a  congenial  companion  and  that  well- 
meaning  but  misguided  and  misguiding  young  man 
had  been  the  recipient  of  Neyland's  confidence, 
especially  when  the  latter  had  been  in  his  cups. 

258 


Encouragement  259 

Of  all  Neyland's  friends  Alton  only  had  been 
aware  of  that  visit  to  Bermuda.  Neyland,  whose 
continued  absence  was  inexplicable,  was  evidently 
the  cause  of  the  trouble  between  Warburton  and 
his  wife. 

Like  the  tailless  fox  the  much-divorced  Altons 
would  fain  see  other  people  in  their  condition. 
They  talked  the  matter  over  and  decided  that 
friendship  for  Neyland  warranted  them  in  entering 
the  game  to  do  that  young  man  a  good  turn.  Al- 
ton himself  was  the  more  ready  because  he  was  on 
the  side  of  that  group  of  rich  men  which  inevitably 
opposed  Warburton.  While  Alton  had  never 
actively  engaged  in  business  his  friends,  those  who 
saw  beneath  his  careless  indifference  to  things 
material,  were  confident  that  his  talents  were  great 
enough  to  make  him  a  formidable  operator  on  the 
exchange.  However,  he  had  no  present  intention 
of  engaging  in  combat  with  Warburton  in  that  way, 
but  his  position  made  him  the  more  willing  to  do 
what  he  could  in  behalf  of  Neyland. 

"You  know  these  Tayloes, "  said  his  wife  as 
they  discussed  the  situation,  "you  know  what  a 
stiff-necked,  holier-than-thou  crowd  they  train 
with.  Why  at  the  Jenitan  dinner-dance  the  bow  I 
got  from  Rose  Tayloe  would  have  made  an  ice- 
berg look  hot,  it  was  so  cold.  They're  painfully  old- 
fashioned  and  behind  the  times." 

"Yes,  I  know, "  remarked  her  husband.  "The 
Colonel  is  a  good  old  chap  but  his  morals  are 
hopelessly  out  of  date. " 


s6o         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Exactly.  And  you  can  just  imagine  what  a 
time  that  poor  thing  is  having  with  them,  especi- 
ally with  that  young  Dago  dangling  around  after 
Rose  with  his  peculiar  Italian  ideas  about  marriage 
and  divorce." 

"Oh,  Attavanti  is  a  good  sort,"  observed  Mr. 
Alton,  "but  he's  as  old-fashioned  as  his  title  on 
the  main  issue.  Just  think  if  we  had  been  as 
foolishly  scrupulous  we  should  never  have 
had " 

"Each  other,"  ecstatically  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Alton,  giving  Billy  a  warm  hug  and  fervent  kiss 
to  show  her  appreciation  of  the  present  situation, 
which  had  not  yet  begun  to  pall  on  either  of  them. 
"You  know  I  never  knew  a  real  man  till  I  met  you, 
Billy. " 

"Nor  I  a  real  woman  until  you  fell  into  my 
arms. " 

Which  was  very  satisfactory  to  both  of  them  so 
far  as  it  went.  That  both  of  them  had  made  use 
of  the  same  expressions  to  other  persons  was  not 
a  matter  of  any  moment. 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  help  her, "  said  Mrs.  Alton 
when  the  loving  pair  had  extricated  themselves 
from  each  other's  arms. 

"How?" 

"I'll  ask  her  here  for  a  little  dinner." 

"Whom  will  you  have  to  meet  her?  You  know 
she  doesn't  fancy  the  live  ones  we  gather  around 
our  festive  board." 

"I'll  ask  nobody  to  meet  her  except  you,  and  I 


Encouragement  261 

wouldn't  ask  you  if  I  didn't  think  you  could  help, 
too. " 

"Thank  you  very  much.     Help  to  what?" 

"Help  to  persuade  her  to  take  her  chance  of 
happiness. " 

"Well,"  said  Billy,  "of  course  that  means  Dick 
Neyland  and  you  know  Dick. " 

"Yes,  I  know  him  but  you  drink  yourself  some 
times,  Billy.  I've  seen  you  fuller  than  a  goat," 
was  her  inelegant  reply,  "but  it  doesn't  make  me 
love  you  any  less  and  as  for  myself  I'd  rather 
have  Dick  Neyland  even  if  he  does  go  on  sprees 
once  in  a  while  than  that  cold-blooded  old 
Warburton. " 

"Look  here,  Becky,  I'll  cut  out  cocktails,  et 
cetera,  if  you  will." 

"No,  you  won't,"  promptly  retorted  the 
vivacious  Mrs.  Alton.  "I  had  one  husband  who 
nearly  drank  himself  to  death  and  in  desperation 
I  took  another  who  never  touched  the  stuff.  Life 
was  as  bad  with  one  as  the  other.  That's  one 
reason  why  I  chose  you.  You're  betwixt  and 
between,  you  see. " 

"  You'd  better  be  careful, "  laughed  her  husband, 
flattered  by  the  position  in  which  she  had  assigned 
him,  "you  may  drive  me  to  total  abstinence  or 
the  other. " 

' '  Not  much.  You're  going  to  keep  in  the  middle 
of  the  road  so  long  as  I'm  looking  out  for  you. " 

"And  how  long  will  that  be?" 

"Till  I  get  tired  of  you. " 


262         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

''And  when  will  that  be?" 

"I  don't  know.  If  we  judge  the  future  by  the 
past " 

"Don't  say  any  more,"  interrupted  Mr.  Alton 
grimly,  "you've  said  enough." 

"Meanwhile,"  interposed  his  wife,  "we'll  enjoy 
the  day  and  we'll  help  poor  Chrissey  Warburton 
to  enjoy  hers." 

"Bet  you  two  to  one  she  won't  come. " 

"Done  for  a  hundred.  You  know  a  lot  about 
women,  Billy,  but  you  don't  know  everything.  If 
she's  in  the  mood  I  think  she  is,  and  I'm  gambling 
that  hundred  on  it,  she'll  be  anxious  to  get  next  to 
a  woman  like  me. " 

Mrs.  Alton  said  this  with  quite  an  air  of  pride. 
She  had  enjoyed  experiences.  Out  of  the  kind- 
ness of  her  heart  she  wished  to  place  them  at  the 
disposal  of  her  more  untutored  sister.  Chrissey 
Warburton  was  very  much  surprised  to  receive 
an  invitation  from  Mrs.  Alton  to  dinner  the  next 
night. 

"There  will  be  no  one  here  except  Mr.  Alton  and 
I  do  so  want  to  see  you,  to  know  you  better, "  the 
note  said. 

Chrissey  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
Altons  had  heard  from  Neyland.  The  fact  that  she 
had  not,  had  begun  to  prey  upon  her.  Besides, 
Becky  Alton  had  been  through  the  mill  and  could 
advise  her.  Ordinarily  she  would  have  declined 
the  invitation  as  a  piece  of  presumption  on  the  part 
of  Mrs.  Alton,  for  whom  she  had  entertained  feel- 


Encouragement  263 

ings  of  contempt,  but  now  it  was  different.  A 
similar  purpose  makes  us  wondrous  kind  to  that 
which  we  have  despised.  The  messenger  who 
brought  the  invitation  carried  back  an  accept- 
ance. 

It  so  happened  that  on  the  morning  of  the  day 
appointed  for  this  dinner  Richard  Neyland,  very 
much  worse  for,  shall  we  say  wear?  presented  him- 
self at  the  office  Billy  Alton  maintained  more  as  a 
luxury  than  for  any  other  purpose  in  the  Wool- 
worth  Building. 

"Speaking  of  angels,"  began  Billy. 

"The  devil,  rather,"  interposed  Neyland 
bitterly. 

"Where  have  you  been  and  why  didn't  you  get 
here  before?" 

"Oh,  I  had  one  hell  of  a  time  in  Bermuda  with 
the  usual  results.  I  found  myself  on  a  tramp 
steamer  bound  for  Charleston.  Took  me  several 
days  to  get  in  any  condition  to  get  up  here." 

"I  suppose  it  was  about  the  Warburtons." 

"Yes,  of  course.     Who  knows  it?" 

"Nobody  knows  anything  definite  but  there's 
been  a  lot  of  newspaper  innuendo." 

"Where  is  she?" 

"At  theTayloes." 

"I  must  get  myself  in  shape  somehow  and  go  to 
see  her." 

"Wouldn't  do  that  if  I  were  you,  Dick.  To  tell 
the  truth,  from  what  has  been  whispered  around 
old  Colonel  Tayloe  isn't  any  too  well  affected 


264          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

toward  this  new  idea  and  you  might  find  it  difficult 
to — er — you  understand. " 

"But  Chrissey  Warburton  would  see  me  any- 
where. " 

"She  couldn't  very  well  if  Tayloe  didn't  desire 
you  to  use  his  apartment  for " 

"  I'll  write  to  her  then. " 

"Now,  old  man,  first  let  me  tell  you  something. 
From  the  looks  of  you  you  couldn't  write  a  letter 
that  anybody  could  read.  You're  knocked  out. 
You  need  a  good  bracer  and  you've  got  to  get  your 
bearings  again.  Why  can't  you  drink  like  me 
instead  of  going  into  it  like  a  regular  hog?" 

"Look  here,  Alton,  I  didn't  come  here  to  be 
lectured  by  you." 

"No,  but  you're  going  to  get  the  straight  truth 
from  me.  If  you  could  drink  like  a  gentleman  I 
wouldn't  say  a  word  but  you  can't.  You  go  right 
down  to  the  gutter  every  time  you  touch  it.  You'd 
better  cut  it  out  altogether." 

"When  I  want  your  advice  I'll  come  for  it." 

"  You'll  get  it  without  coming  for  it.  Your  only 
safety  is  total  abstinence." 

"Is  Saul  also  among  the  prophets?"  sneered 
Neyland. 

"He  is.  Even  the  devil  can  quote  Scripture  on 
occasion,  you  know.  But  that's  neither  here  nor 
there.  You're  old  enough  to  look  after  yourself. " 

"Thank  you  and  I  propose  to  do  so." 

"Your  success  in  the  past  doesn't  greatly  en- 
courage me  to " 


Encouragement  265 

"What  the  devil  are  you  driving  at?" 

"At  you." 

"I've  had  enough  of  it." 

"  Sit  down,  man, "  said  Alton  as  Neyland  rose  to 
go.  "I  can  do  you  a  service." 

"What  service?" 

"You  want  to  see  Mrs.  Warburton,  don't 
you?" 

"Of  course." 

"Well,  come  to  my  house  at  nine  tonight,  but 
for  heaven's  sake  get  in  some  kind  of  shape  be- 
tween now  and  then.  Dope  or  doctor  or  what- 
ever it  is." 

"You  mean  Mrs.  Warburton  is  going  to  dine 
with  Mrs.  Alton  and  you?" 

"Yes,  quite  enfamille,  all  alone." 

"  I  didn't  know  she  was  a  friend  of  your  wife's. " 

"She  isn't.  I  think  she  looked  down  on  good 
old  Becky  but  she  is  contemplating  the  same  sort 
of  a  career  and  when  my  wife  invited  her  she  fell 
for  it  at  once.  Nobody  knows  more  about  the 
game  than  Becky,"  continued  Mr.  Alton  with 
obvious  pride  in  his  accomplished  wife.  "Now 
get  yourself  in  decent  shape  and  happen  in 
and  perhaps  you  will  hear  something  to  your 
advantage." 

"Alton,  you've  said  things  I  wouldn't  let  any- 
body else  say  to  me  but  you're  a  good  friend,  just 
the  same,"  said  Neyland.  "I'll  go  to  see  Dr. 
Alberg,  he'll  shoot  something  into  me,  and  I'll  take 
a  Turkish  bath,  and  I'll  turn  up  all  right. " 


266         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Good,"  said  Alton.  "It'll  surprise  the  lady, 
but  I  guess  agreeably." 

Becky  Alton,  as  might  have  been  surmised  from 
her  career,  was  a  woman  who  went  at  things  by  the 
most  direct  route.  She  received  her  guest  in  the 
drawing-room  into  which  Mr.  Alton,  carefully 
coached  for  the  occasion,  had  not  yet  entered. 

"My  dear,"  she  said,  assuming  that  her  famili- 
arity would  be  acceptable  and  presuming  on  what 
she  believed  to  be  her  guest's  intention,  "I  saw  you 
at  the  opera  the  other  night.  Your  face  has  fairly 
haunted  me  ever  since.  When  I  learned, "  she 
went  on  recklessly,  drawing  a  bow  at  a  venture, 
"that  you  and  Mr.  Warburton  had  separated  and 
that  you  intended  applying  for  a  divorce,  I  just 
couldn't  resist  the  temptation  to  seek  to  know 
you  better  and  to  help  you  to  get  some  of  the 
happiness  floating  around. " 

It  was  a  bold  and  daring  thing  to  say.  If  that 
arrow  shot  at  random  did  not  strike  the  mark 
there  would  be  an  outburst  of  indignation  from 
Mrs.  Warburton,  and  the  budding  intimacy  would 
end  right  there.  The  bold  adventurer  was  grati- 
fied to  see  that  her  courage  had  carried  her  safely 
over  the  dangerous  situation.  Although  Chrissey 
Warburton  experienced  an  intense  revulsion  of 
feeling  and  felt  a  positive  aversion  toward  her 
hostess  she  did  not  exhibit  any  resentment.  She 
had  come  there  for  a  purpose  and  she  was  not  going 
away  without  carrying  out  her  intention.  Still 
the  blunt  declaration  took  her  greatly  aback. 


Encouragement  267 

"How  do  you  know  so  much?"  she  faltered. 
"I  thought  that  only  the  Tayloes " 

"Well,  of  course  there's  Dick  Neyland,  you 
know  he's  Billy's  most  intimate  friend." 

"Is  he  back?"  asked  Chrissey,  half  in  terror,  half 
in  joy. 

"I  haven't  seen  him,  but  he's  sure  to  turn  up 
sooner  or  later.  We  both  know,  everybody  knows, 
that  that  boy  is  just  crazy  about  you.  In  fact 
he  went  down  to  Bermuda,  so  he  told  Billy,  on 
purpose  to  persuade  you. " 

"Has  he  written  anything  about  the  terrible 
things  that  happened  there?" 

"Nothing.  What  happened?"  The  question 
was  a  little  too  blunt  and  Mrs.  Alton  was  quick 
enough  to  recover  herself  before  the  other  could 
answer.  "But  of  course  that  is  none  of  my  affair. 
I  only  thought  you  needed  the  assistance  of  some- 
one who  had  been  through  the  mill  and — my  dear, 
if  you  could  realize  how  happy  Billy  and  I  are  you 
wouldn't  hesitate  a  minute  about  that  divorce." 

"I'm  not  hesitating." 

"Good.  I've  tried  it  twice  before  and  Billy 
has  too,  and  we  know  that  there's  nothing  so 
wretched  as  being  married  to  someone  you  can't  get 
along  with,  who  doesn't  consider  you  at  all,  who 
selfishly  wants  you  to  minister  to  his  pleasure,  and 
to  whom  your  happiness  is  nothing.  If  I'd  only 
met  Billy  before  the  others  I  would  never  have  had 
to  go  through  this  and  he  says  the  same  thing. " 

Whether   or    not    Mrs.    Alton    believed    these 


268          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

assertions  did  not  appear.  At  any  rate,  she  spoke 
with  supreme  confidence  and  satisfaction. 

' '  Dick  Neyland  has  his  faults,  as  every  man  has, 
but  with  a  woman  like  you  to  guide  him  he  would 
be  a  different  fellow.  All  he  needs  is  a  strong  will, 
a  loving  heart  and  I'm  persuaded  you  could  give 
him  those." 

"Yes,  yes,  I  suppose  so." 

"As  for  John  Warburton,  Billy  hates  him  and  so 
do  I  and  Billy's  about  the  most  easy-going  chap  on 
earth.  If  he  hates  any  one  it's  because  he  must  be 
thoroughly  dislikable.  He  has  confessed  he  al- 
ways did  hate  Mr.  Glitton  and  Mr.  Harberd,  my — 
er — the  others,  you  know.  He  says  Warburton  is 
as  hard  as  nails  and  as  cold  as  an  ice-berg.  You 
never  could  be  happy  with  him.  What  you  want 
is  love,  even  if  it  is  not  so  awfully  respectable,  and 
Mr.  Neyland  will  give  you  that.  He  worships  the 
ground  you  walk  on. " 

"I  know,  but  if  you  please  let  us  not  talk  of  that 
any  more. " 

"Of  course  not.  When  it's  been  said  once  it's 
been  said  for  all  time.  Besides  I  want  to  help 
you.  What  place  are  you  thinking  of  going  to? 
Nevada?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  know  the  nicest  place  in  Reno,  a  lovely 
little  house  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town  and  in  the 
best  section.  It  is  kept  by  a  widow  who  only  re- 
ceives one  guest  at  a  time.  She  simply  acts  as 
housekeeper.  I  have  been  there  twice,  and  the 


Encouragement  269 

second  time  was  even  more  satisfactory  than  the 
first.  I  happen  to  know  that  the  house  is  vacant 
now  and  if  you  have  fully  decided  to  go " 

"I  have  absolutely." 

"I'll  have  Billy  telegraph  and  reserve  it  for 
you." 

"What  is  it  you  want  me  to  do?"  asked  Billy 
Alton  entering  opportunely. 

"Billy,  you've  met  Mrs.  Warburton,  of  course." 

"I've  had  that  great  pleasure." 

"She  wants  you  to  telegraph  to  Mrs.  Lashbury 
in  Reno,  you  know,  the  place  where  you  wrote  to 
me.  She  wants  to  reserve  her  house. " 

"Delighted,  I'm  sure,"  said  Billy.  "Shall  I  do 
it  now?" 

Mrs.  Warburton  was  fairly  swept  away  by  the 
kindly  zeal  and  willingness  of  her  host  and 
hostess.  Yet  having  decided,  what  was  the  use  of 
delay? 

"If  you  please,  Mr.  Alton,"  she  said  at  last. 

"Good,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Alton.  "And  Billy, 
you  better  wire  through  your  lawyers  to  Hawkins 
and  Henshaw.  They  are  the  best  lawyers  in 
Reno,  my  dear.  I  have  had  them  twice,  I  know 
them  perfectly  well.  You  go  to  them,  my  dear. 
They  are  to  be  depended  upon  absolutely.  Tell 
them  you  are  sending  another  client,  Billy,  and  ask 
them  to  reserve  Mrs.  Lashbury's  house  for  her. 
When  are  you  thinking  of  starting?" 

"The  sooner  the  better,"  answered  the  desper- 
ate woman. 


270         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

' '  Exactly.  .  It  has  always  been  my  practice  when 
I  had  a  disagreeable  thing  like  that  to  do  to  get 
it  over  with.  Of  course,  people  will  talk.  They 
will  talk  more  in  your  case  because  Mr.  Warbur- 
ton  is  so  much  richer  and  more  prominent  than 
either  Mr.  Glitton  or  Mr.  Harberd  or  even  than 
Billy.", 

That  was  about  all  Mrs.  Warburton  could  stand. 
It  was  quite  evident  Mrs.  Alton  was  as  shrewd 
as  she  was  various.  She  turned  to  her  husband. 

"Go  to  the  telephone  and  call  up  your  attorneys 
and  have  them  send  the  wire  at  once,  Billy, "  she 
said  while  Chrissey  waited,  thoroughly  ashamed  of 
herself,  frightfully  humiliated  at  the  situation,  in 
which  she  had  the  sorry  consciousness  that  she 
had  deliberately  placed  herself  on  Becky  Alton's 
level. 

No  wonder  that  she  shed  a  few  tears.  Now 
Becky  Alton  was  not  all  bad.  Indeed,  she  was  a 
kind-hearted  woman.  Nor  had  she  completely 
forgot  her  own  sensations  when  she  had  been  about 
to  take  the  first  plunge.  She  really  sympathized 
with  her  forlorn  sister  and  it  was  with  a  touch  of 
genuine  feeling  that  she  took  her  in  her  arms. 

"I  know  how  you  feel, "  she  whispered,  pressing 
the  head  of  the  smaller  woman  against  her  breast. 
' '  I  felt  the  same  way  myself  once.  But  what's  the 
use?  We've  only  got  one  life  to  live.  We've 
a  right  to  all  the  happiness  we  can  get  out  of  it 
and  nothing  can  be  worse  than  being  married  to 
a  man  you  don't  love.  " 


Encouragement  271 

"I  hate  him,"  whispered  Chrissey  Warburton 
brokenly.  "I  hate  him  but  I  don't  know " 

"Don't  go  any  further  than  that.  You  love 
somebody  else,  just  take  him  and  keep  him  as  long 
as  you  love  him  and  if  he  doesn't  measure  up  try  it 
again.  Billy's  the  best  boy  on  earth  and  it  looks 
like  eternity  now  but  if  he  should  not  be  the 
man  for  me "  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  cyni- 
cally in  a  way  that  would  not  have  pleased  her 
present  husband  surely. 

Chrissey  looked  at  her  with  some  of  the  horror 
of  her  soul  in  her  face. 

"You  needn't  look  at  me  that  way,"  said  the 
other  woman,  who  was  not  so  very  much  older  than 
she  after  all.  "You  will  come  to  understand  it 
when  you  have  gone  through  what  I've  gone 
through.  At  present  you  think  Mr.  Neyland  is 
the  only  man  on  earth  for  you  and  may  be  he  is, 
but  if  he  isn't  don't  stop  with  him,  get  rid  of  him 
and  try  someone  else.  If  it's  Billy  for  me  I  will 
be  in  great  luck  but  if  it  isn't  I'm  not  going  to  fool 
away  what  remains  of  my  youth  on  him.  I'm 
going  to  be  happy  if  I  die  for  it  and  as  it  generally 
takes  some  man  to  make  us  women  happy  I'm 
going  to  keep  on  until  I  get  the  right  one. " 

' '  I  haven't  heard  a  word  from  Mr.  Neyland  since 
I  left  Bermuda. " 

"There  must  be  some  good  reason  for  that," 
said  Mrs.  Alton,  "for  I  know  and  Billy  knows 
that  ever  since  he's  seen  you  he  hasn't  cared  for 
anything  else. " 


272          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Except  drinking. " 

"Well,  most  men  divide  allegiance  between  a 
woman  and  a  bottle.  If  you  can  keep  him  away 
from  it  he's  the  finest  fellow  on  earth.  Hush,  here 
comes  Billy.  Turn  your  head  away  and  dry  your 
eyes,  I'll  meet  him  at  the  door." 

"Telegram  sent,"  said  Billy.  "Everything's 
arranged.  If  I  can  be  of  any  more  service  to  you, " 
he  continued  talking  to  Mrs.  Warburton's  back 
over  his  wife's  shoulder,  "you  need  only  to  com- 
mand me,  you  know,  tickets,  trains  and " 

"Thank  you,"  answered  the  unhappy  woman, 
"I  think  probably  Colonel  Tayloe  will  attend  to 
everything  for  me, "  she  went  on  bravely,  strug- 
gling for  control.  ' '  He  is  displeased  but  personally 
he  is  very  kind. " 

"Dinner  is  served,  madam,"  said  the  butler, 
appearing  at  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

CROSSING  THE  RUBICON 

IT  would  have  been  a  Barmecide  feast  indeed  but 
for  the  vivacity  of  the  hostess.  In  her  efforts  at 
sparkling  conversation  she  was  ably  seconded 
by  her  husband  whose  powers  in  that  direction  were 
not  to  be  disdained.  Chrissey  Warburton  strove 
hard  to  follow  her  hostess'  lead  and  at  last  entered 
into  the  conversation,  which  grew  daring  and  bold 
to  the  limit,  with  an  utterly  reckless  abandon. 

They  were  still  at  the  table  lingering  over  the 
coffee  when  a  card  was  put  into  the  hostess'  hand. 
She  looked  at  it,  opened  her  eyes  widely  with  well- 
acted  surprise,  considered  it  thoughtfully  for  a 
moment,  and  then  passed  it  to  her  guest. 

"It's  from  Dick  Neyland  for  Mrs.  Warburton," 
she  said  to  her  husband.  "Will  you  see  him,  my 
dear?" 

"Did  you  arrange  this  when  you  invited  me?" 
she  asked,  her  heart  giving  a  great  leap. 

Was  reproach  or  joy  in  her  voice?  For  all  her 
keenness  Mrs.  Alton  could  not  tell. 

"  I  can  answer  that, "  said  Billy  truthfully.  "  We 
didn't  know  where  he  was  when  we  invited  you. 

18  273 


274         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

He  blew  into  my  office  this  morning.  I  thought 
first  of  inviting  him  to  dine  with  us  but  it  occurred 
to  me  that  it  might  not  be  agreeable  to  you,  so  I 
told  him  to  call  at  nine  and  send  in  his  card." 

"I'll  see  him,  of  course." 

"You  will  excuse  us,  Billy,"  said  Mrs.  Alton 
rising.  "Come  this  way,  Chris,"  venturing  upon 
the  bold  use  of  her  new  found  friend's  name  as  if 
to  cement  the  alliance,  "and  you  must  call  me 
Becky,  like  all  my  friends." 

She  led  the  way  along  the  hall  and  pointed  to 
the  door  of  the  morning-room,  into  which  she  had 
previously  given  instructions  that  Mr.  Neyland 
should  be  ushered,  and  turned  away.  Chrissey 
laid  her  hand  on  the  door.  For  a  moment  she 
hesitated  to  open  it.  It  was  a  crisis  in  her  fortunes. 
There  was  still  time  for  retreat  in  spite  of  the  tele- 
gram which  had  been  sent.  There  had  been  no 
irremediable  publicity  as  yet,  neither  her  name 
nor  Alton's  appearing  in  the  telegram,  but  if  she 
opened  that  door  it  would  be  the  crossing  of  the 
Rubicon. 

She  trembled  on  the  verge  of  the  irretraceable 
step.  She  hesitated.  Perhaps  if  Warburton  had 
been  by  she  might  not  have  been  lost.  The  next 
instant  she  was  in  Neyland's  arms. 

The  room  was  poorly  illuminated.  Heavy 
shades  covered  the  electric  lights.  She  could  not 
see  clearly  and  distinctly  the  face  of  her  lover.  The 
doctor,  the  valet,  and  the  dope,  whatever  it  was, 
had  worked  wonders  with  him.  Although  the 


Crossing  the  Rubicon  275 

ravages  of  his  latest  departure  would  have  been 
apparent  in  broad  day  they  were  not  so  evident 
in  that  dimly  lighted  room,  and  besides  she  was  in 
his  arms.  Her  eyes  were  misted  with  tears.  His 
kisses  covered  her  face.  She  could  neither  see  nor 
think  clearly. 

The  first  burst  of  happiness  that  she  had  known 
since  that  day  they  rode  a-horseback  through 
the  enchantments  of  that  island  paradise  came  into 
her  heart.  It  was  not  perfect  happiness.  She 
found  herself,  singularly  enough  and  to  her  great 
dissatisfaction,  remembering  Warburton  even  in 
Neyland's  arms  and  finally  she  gently  thrust  him 
from  her  and  extricated  herself. 

"Why  didn't  you  come  to  me  before?" 
"I — er— -couldn't  leave  on  the  Bermudian," 
he  answered.  "You  forbade  it.  I  caught  a  tramp 
steamer  to  Charleston.  I  was — delayed.  I  would 
have  come  to  you  at  the  Tayloes  immediately  but 
Billy  advised  me  not  to.  He  told  me  not  to  write 
either  and  that  he  would  arrange  for  me  to  see  you 
here  tonight.  What  are  you  going  to  do  for  our 
future?" 

"I'm  going  to  Reno  in  a  few  days." 
"And  in  a  few  months,"  he  exclaimed  as  he 
caught  her  to  his  heart  again,  "you  will  belong  to 
me." 

"Yes, "  said  the  woman.  " It's  my  only  chance 
for  happiness." 

"If  I  can  bring  it  about,  you  know " 

"I  know  your  intention,  Richard,"  she  said  at 


276          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

last,  "your  desire  to  serve  me,  but  oh,  I  don't 
know  your  will." 

"If  it  were  as  great  as  my  love,"  he  cried,  "it 
could  achieve  anything." 

"Ah,  but  that  is  the  question."  He  stood 
before  her  in  great  humility  as  she  went  on.  "I 
want  to  be  proud  of  the  man  I  love,  to  whom  I  give 
myself.  I  do  not  know  how  long  it  takes  to  get 
a  divorce  in  Nevada  but  I  suppose  it  will  be  six 
months.  I'm  going  to  make  conditions." 

"Anything." 

"For  six  months  you  must  not  touch  a  drop  of 
anything.  You  have  it  in  you  to  do  great  things. " 

"I  have  done  some  things  in  the  field  of  adven- 
ture and  exploration. " 

"Yes,  I  know.  You  have  played  a  man's  part 
in  difficult  situations  but  there  is  no  more  difficult 
situation  for  a  man  like  you, "  she  went  on  with 
rare  insight  and  merciless  severity,  "than  here  in 
New  York.  You  must  conquer  here.  When  my 
divorce  is  granted  and  we  are  married— 

"May  God  bless  you  for  those  words, "  said  the 
man  using  the  natural  figure  of  speech  to  express 
human  gratitude  without  in  the  least  degree 
acknowledging  God! 

"I  don't  know  about  His  blessing,"  said  the 
woman  dubiously,  "but  if  I  am  to  have  happiness 
I  must  respect  you  as  much  as  I  love  you.  I 
believe  in  you." 

"You  are  the  only  one  who  does. " 

"You  must  believe  in  yourself  as  much  as  I 


Crossing  the  Rubicon  277 

believe  in  you,"  she  went  on.  "You  must  stay 
right  here  and  show  yourself  a  man  and  a  con- 
queror to  whom  I  can  look  up  as  I  could  have 
looked  up  to  John  Warburton " 

"Don't,"  he  cried. 

"If  I  had  loved  him." 

"But  you  don't  love  him?" 

"Would  I  be  here  if  I  did?" 

"No,  of  course  not,  but " 

"Would  I  have  allowed  you  to  take  me  in  your 
arms  if  I  had?" 

"I  am  wrong  to  question  you." 

"Now  this  must  be  good-bye.  I  shall  not  see 
you  again.  I  cannot.  We  both  have  battles  to 
fight.  Some  day  we  will  fight  our  battles  together, 
but  now  we  must  fight  them  alone.  I  am  going 
away  day  after  tomorrow.  You  must  not  seek 
to  see  me. " 

"I  can  write?" 

"Of  course.  I  shall  live  for  your  letters  but  you 
must  not  come  to  Nevada.  You  must  stay  here 
and  tell  me  what  you  do  and  how  you  succeed. " 

"Thrice  is  he  armed, "  protested  Neyland,  "who 
fights  for  such  a  guerdon  as  you,  Chrissey. "  That 
saying  was  used  of  him  who  had  his  quarrel  justi- 
fied, but  the  man  had  no  hesitation  in  misapplying 
it.  "I'm  going  up  into  the  wilds  of  Labrador," 
he  continued.  "I  shall  be  gone  from  civilization 
for  two  or  three  months.  It  will  enable  me  to  get 
in  shape,  to  recover  my  strength  before  I  return 
for  your  battle. " 


278          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"You  won't  go  into  danger?" 

"I  shall  be  more  careful  of  this  poor  life  of  mine 
now  than  ever  before  because  it  is  yours,"  he 
answered  tenderly.  "But  I  want  to  break  away 
from  the  present  habit  and  that  is  the  best  way 
to  do  it.  I'll  fight  until  I'm  strong  enough  to  come 
back." 

"And  during  those  months?" 

"I'll  write  you  at  every  opportunity.  I'll 
keep  a  journal  and  send  it  to  you  when  occasion 
serves. " 

"Perhaps  I  will  do  the  same,"  she  said.  "We 
will  set  down  our  secret  thoughts  each  for  the 
other.  And  what  shall  you  do  when  you  come 
back  here?" 

"I'll  tell  you  then.  I  have  certain  plans  but 
I'd  rather  not  mention  them  now  until  I'm  ready 
to  carry  them  out. " 

"Very  well.     Now  you  must  go. " 

"Oh,  don't  send  me  away.  There  are  a  thou- 
sand things  I  want  to  say." 

"I  must.  You  cannot  know  how  I've  been 
tried.  Look  at  me. " 

She  lifted  the  shade  from  the  nearest  lamp. 
He  saw  her  face  upon  which  her  inward  agony  had 
written  its  traces  and  she  saw  his  face,  too,  upon 
which  other  things  were  graven.  With  a  sinking 
heart  she  looked  at  him.  They  confronted  each 
other.  There  was  something  between  them  that 
held  their  glances.  His  head  dropped. 

"It's  the  last  time,"  he  gritted  out  desperately. 


Crossing  the  Rubicon  279 

"I  give  you  my  word  of  honour  I'll  never  touch  it 
again." 

"I  will  believe  you,"  said  the  woman,  forcing 
the  expression  to  her  lips,  "and  with  that  word  of 
confidence  you  must  go."  He  stretched  out  his 
arms  toward  her  but  she  shook  her  head.  "Not 
now.  I  was  surprised  a  moment  since,  I  was  so 
lonely,  but  now  no  more,  until  you  have  the 
right." 

He  seized  her  hand  and  bent  over  it  and  kissed 
it,  bowing  before  her  as  he  might  have  bowed  to  a 
shrine,  touching  her  hand  as  men  handle  things 
that  are  holy.  She  lifted  her  other  hand  above 
his  head  almost  as  if  in  benediction  and  then 
suddenly  dropped  it.  She  could  give  no  benison. 
She  could  not  even  receive  one.  What  she  said 
was  commonplace  enough. 

"You  can  get  my  new  address  from  Mr.  Alton. 
Good-bye. " 

At  the  word  he  was  gone.  She  met  Mrs.  Alton 
in  the  hall. 

"No,"  she  said,  "don't  call  Mr.  Alton.  Bid 
him  good-bye  and  thank  him  for  me.  You  have 
been  very  helpful  and  I  am  grateful. " 

Two  days  after  when  she  entered  her  stateroom 
on  the  Twentieth  Century  Limited  she  found  it 
filled  with  clusters  of  great  red  roses  that  spoke  to 
her  of  Neyland  and  compensated  her  in  some 
degree  for  the  terrible  loneliness  and  depression  in 
her  heart  as  the  great  train  rolled  out  of  the 
station  on  its  way  westward.  She  took  no  one 


280         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

with  her  but  her  maid,  who  had  been  her  faithful 
attendant  for  a  long  time.  She  left  behind  her, 
so  she  fancied,  regrets,  troubles,  sorrows,  shames, 
despairs.  She  strove  to  look  ahead  hopefully 
seeking  love,  joy,  peace — the  gifts  of  the  Spirit 
she  was  about  to  repudiate  and  deny! 


BOOK  V 
DIVORCED 


281 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

A    BITTER    TASTE 

MORE  often  than  not  what  a  woman  sets  her 
mind  on  in  the  beginning  she  finds  she  does  not 
wish  in  the  end.  This  was  especially  true  of 
Chrissey  Warburton  and  her  divorce.  Having 
got  it  she  did  not  want  it !  Not  infrequently  has 
it  been  observed  that  about  the  worst  thing 
that  can  happen  is  to  have  our  prayers  answered 
literally. 

After  Mrs.  John  Warburton  had  been  seven 
months  in  Nevada,  on  a  certain  day  in  early  sum- 
mer there  had  been  put  in  her  hands  that  decree 
of  divorce  she  had  sought,  giving  her  permission 
to  resume  once  more  her  maiden  name,  and  behold 
it  was  as  valueless  a  piece  of  paper  as  she  had  ever 
examined !  The  end  of  her  ambition,  the  accom- 
plishment of  her  desire,  the  fruition  of  her  hope,  not 
only  brought  her  no  joy  but  had  filled  her  with  a 
dissatisfaction  as  intense  as  had  been  her  original 
craving.  When  her  lawyer  handed  her  the  paper 
making  her  a  free  woman  she  had  just  self-control 
enough  not  to  hand  it  back.  Instead  she  had 

283 


284          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

thrust  it  in  the  pocket  of  her  riding-coat  and  had 
left  the  room  with  the  barest  acknowledgment 
courtesy  required. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  hateful  to  her 
than  the  beginning  of  her  life  at  Reno.  Becky 
Alton's  boast  was  that  she  always  had  friends 
there.  She  used  to  say  that  no  matter  when  she 
might  go  there  she  was  certain  of  congenial  com- 
panionship with  persons  of  her  own  social  circle. 
The  supply  of  seekers-after-freedom  was  inexhaust- 
ible. Becky  would  always  be  sure  of  a  good  time 
in  Reno. 

Out  of  the  kindness  of  her  heart  Mrs.  Alton  had 
notified  some  of  the  temporary  sojourners  in  the 
Nevada  Mecca — lingerers  whose  time  was  not  out 
at  her  departure  and  comers  who  had  shortly 
before  left  New  York — of  the  arrival  in  their 
midst  of  Chrissey  Warburton.  She  had  asked 
them  to  make  it  pleasant  for  the  new  member  of 
the  colony.  And  they  were  not  only  willing  but 
anxious  so  to  do. 

Now  Chrissey  Warburton's  pitiful  plea  had  been 
for  a  happiness  which  she  fancied  she  could  get 
by  following  the  off-with-the-old-on-with-the-new 
matrimonial  policy.  Yet  she  had  not  so  com- 
pletely abandoned  herself  to  her  desires  as  to  have 
lost  all  pride  and  delicacy  and  refinement.  The 
mad  revels  of  the  exotic  set  at  Reno  were  not  to  her 
taste  at  all.  They  disgusted  her  not  only  with 
the  active  participants  but  with  divorce  itself. 
Since  it  was  the  lust  for  approaching  freedom  that 


A  Bitter  Taste  285 

seemed  to  induce  and  warrant  their  abuse  of  it 
before  it  came. 

At  first  in  her  desperation  the  poor  tempest- 
tossed  woman  had  made  a  few  tentative  efforts 
to  enter  into  the  wild  and  extravagant  gaiety  of  the 
shocking  set.  But  she  did  it  with  little  heart  and 
no  real  interest.  She  found  it  impossible  and 
finally  fled  from  it  as  from  a  pestilence. 

"I  was  like  that  at  first, "  Mrs.  Alton  remarked 
to  her  husband  after  reading  about  her  new  friend's 
actions  in  a  letter  from  a  friend  in  Reno.  "It 
seemed  horrible  to  me.  I  felt  so  sad  the  first 
time. " 

"But  you  got  over  it,  I  suppose,"  observed 
Billy  grimly,  not  entering  into  his  wife's  feelings 
as  approvingly  as  usual. 

"Yes,  of  course.  It  was  quite  different  the 
second  time.  I  was  the  maddest  of  the  mad  then, ' ' , 
she  continued  reminiscently.  "Now  if  I  ever 
went  to  Reno  again " 

"There  isn't  going  to  be  any  again,  Becky," 
protested  Billy. 

"I  hope  not  but  you  never  can  tell.  Three 
times  and — that's  almost  a  habit,"  laughed  Mrs. 
Billy  lightly,  at  which  the  only  proper  comment 
that  occurred  to  her  husband  were  the  two  expres- 
sive monosyllables. 

"Oh  damn!" 

But  Chrissey  Warburton  had  not  got  that  far 
yet  and  in  her  disgust  she  fled.  That  disgust  was 
catholic.  It  included  Warburton,  Neyland,  her- 


286         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

self,  and  society.  And  that  it  was  illogical  in  the 
extreme  did  not  matter.  And  even  though  she 
was  presently  left  to  herself,  as  she  had  desired, 
it  did  not  fade  away.  A  mighty  leaven  was  there 
and  it  worked. 

She  had  somewhat  relieved  her  emotions  after 
receiving  the  decree  by  a  mad  gallop  through  the 
hills  to  the  isolated  mountain  cabin,  half -lodge,  half- 
camp,  where  after  that  brief  experience  of  the 
colony  society  she  had  elected  to  pass  the  time. 
Not  until  she  set  foot  on  the  broad  porch  of  the 
rude  log  bungalow  confronting  the  mighty  sweep  of 
the  great  Sierra  Nevada  range,  its  peaks  glisten- 
ing with  the  glory  of  the  everlasting  snow,  did  she 
draw  it  from  the  pocket.  Under  the  influence  of  an 
irresistible  impulse,  after  one  hasty  glance  at  it, 
she  threw  it  from  her  as  if  it  had  been  a  reptile 
and  with  a  movement  peculiarly  feminine  she 
actually  stamped  her  heel  upon  it. 

It  represented  a  great  deal,  this  inoffensive  paper 
that  she  had  trampled  under  foot.  It  wiped  out, 
so  far  as  such  things  could  be  obliterated,  the 
bitter  and  harrowing  experiences  of  the  past  year. 
It  restored  to  her  that  maiden  name  which,  through 
the  forbearance  of  her  husband,  she  might  still 
use  without  too  great  an  antagonism  between 
name  and  fact.  It  permitted  her  to  marry  the 
man  to  whom  she  had  deliberately  elected  to  give 
herself.  It  shut  the  door  of  the  past  behind  her 
and  opened  the  door  of  the  future  before  her. 

She  discovered  then,  in  that  hour,  at  that  mo- 


A  Bitter  Taste  287 

ment,  what  she  had  indeed  more  than  suspected 
before  but  what  she  had  steadfastly  refused  to 
admit  even  to  herself,  that  she  did  not  want  to  pass 
through  the  door  that  opened  into  the  future  but 
that  she  would  much  rather  go  back  through  the 
portal  of  the  past.  Too  late  she  realized  that  it 
was  not  Richard  Neyland  she  loved  but  John 
Warburton !  . 

That  it  was  too  late  she  never  attempted  to 
dispute.  Indeed  that  consciousness  had  kept  her 
from  backing  out  at  the  last  moment,  from  leaving 
Reno  before  the  final  judgment.  There  was  a 
natural  pride  that  moved  her  to  stick  it  out  to 
the  end.  She  had  repudiated  her  husband.  She 
had  declined  to  be  his  wife.  She  had  thrown 
herself  into  the  arms  of  Neyland;  to  be  sure 
those  arms  had  been  eagerly  extended  to  her, 
wide  open  to  her,  but  that  did  not  materially  alter 
the  fact.  And  there  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  the 
genuineness  of  Neyland' s  passion  for  her.  It  was  as 
great  an  emotion  as  he  could  exhibit  or  entertain. 

For  that  matter  there  was  no  doubt  of  Warbur- 
ton's  feeling  for  her,  or  at  least  there  had  been 
no  doubt  before.  Now  he  might  have  changed. 
She  went  over  again  the  episodes  in  her  singular 
intercourse  with  these  two  men.  She  could  not 
think  of  one  without  thinking  of  the  other,  by  the 
way.  In  that  camp  in  the  hills  where  she  had  been 
left  completely  alone  by  a  justly  affronted  colony, 
a  new  perspective  of  values  had  been  established. 
She  saw  the  two  men  in  their  right  relations  to  each 


288          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

other.  Of  necessity  she  considered  them  together 
and  drew  comparisons. 

She  had  recovered  her  strength  and  health  and 
her  beauty  in  that  cabin  in  the  pine-clad  uplands, 
facing  the  mighty  rampart  of  the  main  range  whose 
snow-topped,  up-flung  peaks  were  inspiration  to  the 
lonely  watcher.  She  had  been  alone  with  Nature, 
that  is  alone  with  God,  and  He  had  spoken  to  her 
in  the  solitudes.  She  could  not  doubt  it. 

Now  the  heart  of  any  human  being  is  a  complex 
thing  and  the  mainsprings  of  action  are  not  easily 
separable  one  from  another.  How  much  the  fact 
that  she  had  awakened  to  the  realization  that 
after  all  she  did  not  love  Neyland,  seeing  him  at 
last  as  he  was;  or  the  additional  fact  that  she  had 
begun  to  realize  that  she  did  love  Warburton,  see- 
ing him  at  last  as  he  was ;  or  yet  the  other  fact  that, 
often  and  often,  lying  with  her  hands  clasped  under 
her  head  upon  the  carpet  of  pine  needles,  look- 
ing up  through  the  waving  branches  at  the 
blue  sky,  she  had  considered  the  warnings  and 
appeals  of  the  Church  as  set  forth  by  Father 
Smith,  had  moved  her,  who  can  say?  At  all 
events  they  all  worked  together  to  one  end. 

She  had  few  correspondents.  Rose  Tayloe  was 
the  only  one  worthy  of  the  name.  Her  letters  she 
read  with  avidity  and  answered  at  length.  Becky 
Alton  had  written  once,  twice,  thrice,  but  in  de- 
fault of  any  answer  had  finally  ceased  to  trouble 
her.  She  had  heard  a  few  times  from  Colonel 
Tayloe  on  matters  of  business.  Her  fortune  had 


A  Bitter  Taste  289 

been  put  in  her  own  control.  It  was  that  which 
enabled  her  to  indulge  her  fancy  in  purchasing 
this  mountain  cabin,  which  she  had  furnished  in 
accordance  with  her  taste  and  comfort.  She  lived 
alone  there  with  her  devoted  maid  and  such  ser- 
vants as  were  necessary  to  her  quiet  domestic 
arrangements.  She  grew  to  love  the  place  and  she 
had  thought  she  would  keep  it  forever,  but  on  that 
morning  as  she  ground  that  decree  of  divorce  under 
her  heel  it  suddenly  became  filled  with  associations 
hateful  instead  of  sweet  and  she  resolved  to  dispose 
of  it  immediately. 

She  sat  down  presently,  resting  her  chin  in  her 
hand,  and  stared  down  at  the  beautiful,  tree-clad 
little  city,  nestling  beneath  the  protection  of  the 
range  and  looking  like  a  handful  of  pearls  in  a  gob- 
let of  emerald,  she  had  often  said,  recalling  some 
fantastic  Arab  simile  of  her  lighter  reading.  The 
thought  of  a  city  with  its  busy,  bustling,  enter- 
prising merchants  and  its  crowds  of  people  always 
brought  Warburton  to  her  mind.  She  knew  now 
when  she  had  begun  to  love  him.  It  was  on  that 
night  in  which  he  had  mastered  Neyland  and  would 
have  hurled  him  over  the  cliff  to  destruction 
but  for  her  staying  hand.  How  mighty  and  how 
masterful  he  had  been  to  the  man  he  hated,  how 
contemptuous  of  the  woman  he  loved — had  loved — 
loved!  Which? 

If  he  had  not  suggested  the  divorce  she  admitted 
that  she  never  would  have  sought  it.  He  might 
have  had  her  then  if  he  had  taken  her,  if  he  had 
19 


290         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

only  been  mighty  and  masterful  to  the  woman  as 
well  as  to  the  man.  She  fancied  herself  in  his 
strong  arms,  her  little  body  high  uplifted,  and  her 
very  soul  thrilled  to  the  idea.  Why  had  she  been 
such  a  fool?  Seeking  to  avoid  the  Scylla  of  the 
obligations  of  an  unloving  marriage  she  had  been 
about  to  fall  into  the  Charybdis  of  exactly  the  same 
situation;  for  until  that  hour  she  had  been  firmly 
resolved  to  go  through  with  the  program,  to  marry 
Neyland  just  as  soon  as  it  became  legally  possible. 
She  had  suspected  in  her  early  sojourn  at  Reno  the 
true  state  of  her  feelings  but  she  had  gone  on  because 
no  other  course  seemed  possible.  She  had  gone  on 
in  a  perfect  frenzy  of  desperate  determination.  But 
it  is  one  thing  to  maintain  such  a  state  of  mind  and 
being  during  the  approach,  it  is  quite  another  thing 
to  confront  the  consummation  when  it  is  at  hand. 
There  was  nothing  new  or  strange  or  unexpected 
that  Neyland  had  done  that  had  opened  her  eyes. 
He  was  just  as  he  had  been.  In  fact,  he  had  been 
in  a  much  better  and  more  admirable  frame  of  mind 
and  condition  of  body  and  spirit  than  ever  before. 
For  the  first  three  months  of  their  separation  he 
had  been  lost  to  her  in  the  wilds  of  Labrador.  He 
had  come  back  from  his  battle  with  nature  in  the 
wilderness  with  the  renewed  strength  he  needed  for 
the  harder  battle  with  civilization  in  New  York. 
But  these  three  months  had  been  fatal  to  him  in 
ways  of  which  he  did  not  dream.  Three  months 
without  the  exchange  of  a  word  had  wrought  his 
undoing  so  far  as  her  love  was  concerned. 


A  Bitter  Taste  291 

She  had  not  given  up  her  hope  of  happiness  with 
Neyland  without  a  struggle.  Since  his  return 
to  New  York  he  had  written  her  every  day ;  pas- 
sionate, intense,  pleading,  devoted  letters  to  which 
she  honestly  endeavoured  to  reply  in  kind.  She 
strove  to  simulate  a  virtue — if  so  it  might  be 
called — she  did  not  possess;  she  tried  to  exhibit 
an  emotion  she  did  not  feel.  At  first  he  had 
reproached  her  for  her  coldness — being  keen  to 
detect  it  despite  her  efforts  at  concealment — but 
latterly  he  had  come  to  realize  the  impotency 
as  well  as  the  impolicy  of  such  a  course. 

He  had  all  the  confidence  of  a  great  passion  in 
his  ability  eventually  to  compel  a  return.  Even 
though  her  letters  were  colder  than  he  fancied, 
even  though  she  did  not  meet  his  craving  and  her 
love  was  even  to  his  blinded  soul  less  than  his  own, 
he  trusted  and  hoped.  As  ever  trust  and  hope 
were  parents  to  belief.  When  the  divorce  was 
granted  and  they  were  married  all  would  be  well, 
he  fatuously  told  himself.  She  could  not  long 
resist  the  compulsion  of  his  unbounded  devotion, 
he  was  sure. 

That  she  could  by  any  possibility  have  been 
mistaken  in  her  own  feeling,  that  she  could  have 
grown  to  love  her  husband  never  entered  his  head. 
She  would  not  allow  herself  to  think  that,  but  the 
very  effort  she  made  to  put  that  growing  and  deep- 
ening conviction  out  of  her  soul  but  entrenched 
it  there  the  more  firmly.  It  needed  but  a  preci- 
pitant to  make  the  fact  stand  out  nakedly  before 


292          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

her  and  the  precipitant  was,  of  course,  the  decree 
of  divorce.  Her  whole  soul  cried  out  for  John 
Warburton.  Her  honour,  her  pride,  her  plighted 
word,  threw  her  into  the  arms  of  Richard  Neyland. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

TO   MAKE   OR   BREAK 

NEYLAND  had  not  been  idle  in  New  York.  A 
great  undertaking  had  been  conceived  by  him  with 
the  assistance  of  Mr.  Billy  Alton,  who,  to  do  him 
justice,  had  shown  himself  a  better  friend  than 
ever  before  in  that  he  had  ceased  to  put  temptation 
in  Neyland's  way,  and  indeed  in  the  excitement  of  a 
different  method  of  having  a  good  time  had  put  it 
out  of  his  own  way,  somewhat  to  the  annoyance 
of  his  wife,  who  found  him  on  occasion  strangely 
prosaic. 

Alton  and  Neyland  had  joined  forces,  organizing 
a  pool  for  the  sole  purpose  of  crushing  Warburton. 
The  audacity  of  the  proposition,  its  difficulty,  and 
its  magnitude  did  not  daunt  the  two  young  adven- 
turers. Given  a  good  hatred  back  of  him,  man 
will  try  anything.  Neyland's  hatred  of  Warbur- 
ton was  in  a  large  measure  shared  by  his  friend. 
For  various  reasons  Alton  found  the  great  financier, 
who  had  treated  him  with  cutting  indifference, 
not  to  say  contempt,  on  occasion,  an  object  most 
agreeable  to  his  pride  to  attack.  A  man  whose 
operations  were  as  vast  and  varied  as  Warburton 's 

293 


294          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

was  always  open  to  assault.  In  the  course  of  those 
operations  there  was  always  a  point  that  was  vul- 
nerable. Many  men  had  attacked  Warburton, 
singly  or  in  combination  with  others,  but  he  had 
always  won  out.  There  was  no  single  man  who 
could  successfully  oppose  him.  But  could  he  fight 
such  a  group  as  Neyland  and  Alton  sought  to 
enlist  to  get  control  of  the  great  Inter-Oceanic 
Railroad  at  their  own  price. 

Neyland  and  Alton  alone  would  have  no  chance 
whatsoever.  They  were  shrewd  enough  to  realize 
this.  Their  plan  was  to  organize  from  an  opposi- 
tion which  was  always  ready  to  attack  success  or  to 
oppose  mastery  such  a  powerful  combination  as 
even  Warburton  could  not  stand  against.  In  this 
case  they  could  certainly  count  on  the  competing 
transcontinental  lines,  which  had  sought  to  wreck 
the  Inter-Oceanic  before  Warburton  got  hold  of 
it. 

Neyland  was  an  impetuous  man,  quick  and  bold 
in  action;  Alton,  cooler,  quieter,  and  not  less 
brave,  was  an  excellent  foil.  The  combination  was 
ideal.  It  was  Alton  who  restrained  Neyland  from 
premature  action.  The  two  young  men,  who  had 
the  entree  socially  or  in  business  everywhere  and 
who  were  both  members  of  the  stock  exchange, 
working  quietly,  cautiously,  and  with  the  deepest 
secrecy  with  the  heads  of  the  three  great  rivals  of 
the  Inter-Oceanic  Railroad  for  their  chief  advisers 
and  backers,  accumulated  their  resources  and  aided 
by  some  of  the  biggest  financiers  made  every  pre- 


To  Make  or  Break  295 

paration  before  striking,  without  permitting  the 
least  inkling  of  their  intention  to  get  abroad. 

Two  weeks  before  the  date  set  for  the  hearing  of 
the  case  and  the  granting  of  the  divorce,  having 
completed  their  organization,  they  hurled  an  attack 
upon  Warburton's  stocks  and  properties  which 
for  power  and  skill  and  determination  Warburton 
had  never  sustained  and  the  street  had  never  seen 
equalled. 

Their  scheme,  like  every  great  plan  of  attack, 
was  simplicity  itself  in  its  essence  although  there 
were,  of  course,  complexities  in  the  working  out  of 
details.  They  proposed  to  sell  short  the  stock  of  the 
Inter-Oceanic  until  they  had  hammered  it  down  to 
such  a  point  that  they  could  take  over  the  road. 
The  "I-O,"  as  it  was  commonly  known,  was  the 
apple  of  Warburton's  eye.  His  genius  had  always 
been  constructive  rather  than  destructive.  He 
had  taken  the  road  when  it  was  about  to  go  into 
bankruptcy.  He  had  bought  and  now  held  some- 
thing like  forty  per  cent,  of  the  stock.  The  balance 
of  the  stock  was  in  the  "Street"  and  with  small 
investors  and  from  both  sources  he  had  acquired 
enough  proxies  to  control  the  road. 

The  road  had  almost  been  ruined  by  the  crushing 
opposition  of  the  other  great  transcontinental 
trunk  lines  which  it  paralleled.  It  had  paid  no 
dividends  for  years.  It  had  not  yet  paid  anything 
under  Warburton's  management  for  that  matter, 
for  everything  the  road  had  made — and  it  was  now 
on  a  paying  basis — had  been  used  to  rehabilitate 


296         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

the  properties.  This  had  been  done  so  skilfully 
that  public  buying  of  the  stock  had  been  liberal. 
Warburton's  ability  and  methods  had  won  him 
many  stockholders.  The  trust  they  reposed  in  his 
integrity  and  judgment  had  been  the  greatest 
compliment  ever  paid  him. 

,  Warburton  had  put  his  own  money  freely  into 
the  road.  The  great  Warburton  Trust  Company 
with  its  allied  and  subsidiary  companies  already 
held  much  of  Warburton's  stock  in  other  enter- 
prises, which  he  had  hypothecated  to  get  ready 
cash  to  put  into  the  I-O.  Colonel  Tayloe  would 
have  done  anything  on  earth  for  his  friend  except 
violate  the  law  as  President  and  controlling  genius 
of  the  Warburton  Trust  Company.  In  spite  of  the 
fact  that  Warburton  was  the  largest  stockholder 
in  the  Trust  Company  and  its  branches  he 
could  get  no  accommodation  from  it  except  in 
compliance  with  the  provisions  of  the  law;  nor,  to 
do  him  justice,  did  Warburton  desire  anything  more 
than  that.  There  was  a  peculiar,  rigid,  almost 
romantic  sense  of  honour  about  this  great  business 
man. 

Misfortunes  never  come  singly.  An  unavoidable 
and  disastrous  wreck  of  the  "Transcontinental 
Limited"  about  two  weeks  before  the  granting  of 
his  wife's  divorce  in  which  a  number  of  passengers 
had  been  killed;  and  another  accident  in  which  a 
train  containing  an  immensely  valuable  ship- 
ment of  raw  silk  from  the  Pacific  coast  had  run  into 
a  way  freight,  had  aroused  the  public  greatly. 


To  Make  or  Break  297 

Before  Warburton  took  over  the  road  wrecks 
had  been  common  and  of  course  every  news- 
paper harked  back  to  the  past,  illogically  and 
unkindly  but  inevitably.  The  monetary  loss 
was  tremendous.  The  financial  responsibility  for 
the  killed  and  injured  passengers  and  for  the  burnt- 
up  train-load  of  raw  silk  ran  into  the  millions. 
The  day  after  the  wreck  Warburton  was  surprised 
at  the  large  blocks  of  I-O  stock  which  were  be- 
ing offered  for  sale  on  the  exchange.  He  realized 
that  this  was  short  stock  and  met  the  attack 
promptly. 

Neyland  and  Alton,  both  being  members  of  the 
stock  exchange,  carried  on  their  operations  openly. 
Although  they  were  both  men  of  fortune  neither  of 
them  was  of  enough  importance  or  of  sufficient 
wealth  to  try  to  get  control  of  the  I-O.  Warbur- 
ton realized  that  so  soon  as  his  brokers  brought  him 
the  information.  It  did  not  appear,  however,  who 
was  back  of  the  attack.  At  any  rate,  the  offering 
of  the  stock  of  the  railroad  for  sale  together  with  the 
disparaging  comments  upon  the  disastrous  wreck 
brought  about  a  sharp  decline  in  the  price. 

Warburton's  resources  were  still  ample  and  by 
steady  buying  he  forced  it  up  again.  But  the 
attack  was  repeated  the  day  after  and  the  day 
after,  and  as  there  is  a  sort  of  wild  contagion  about 
such  attacks  people  who  would  normally  have  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it  joined  in  the  raid.  The 
speculative  spirit  rose,  and  the  market  became 
feverish  and  excited.  Many  bona  fide  owners  got 


298         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

frightened  and  offered  their  small  holdings  on  the 
declining  market,  which  added  to  the  depression. 
The  price  of  the  stock,  in  spite  of  all  Warburton's 
efforts  to  support  it,  continued  to  fall.  That  would 
not  have  mattered  very  much — the  real  value  of 
the  road  was  not  impaired  by  speculation  in  its 
stock — had  it  not  been  for  the  fact  that  Warburton 
had  already  pledged  his  stock,  with  other  securities, 
to  the  bank  for  loans  to  carry  on  the  work  of 
rehabilitation. 

Just  as  soon  as  the  price  fell  Colonel  Tayloe 
had  to  call  for  more  collateral  to  keep  up  the  proper 
ratio  between  the  security  and  the  loan.  War- 
burton  by  this  time  realized  the  serious  quality  of 
the  persistent  attack.  He  realized  it  more  keenly 
when  in  certain  papers  controlled  by  men  in  opposi- 
tion to  him  subtle  innuendoes  about  the  soundness 
of  the  Warburton  Trust  Company  and  its  allied 
companies  began  to  appear.  The  battle  was  still 
openly  conducted  by  Alton  and  Neyland  but 
everybody  knew  that  vast  forces  must  be  back  of 
those  two  knights-errant  of  the  stock  exchange, 
and  Warburton  soon  woke  up  to  the  fact  that  he 
had  the  fight  of  his  life  on  his  hands. 

He  could  not  discover  the  source  of  the  power  the 
young  men  possessed  but  he  guessed  that  it  could 
be  no  other  than  the  competing  transcontinental 
roads.  To  fight  them  all  he  strained  every  nerve 
to  the  breaking  point.  Colonel  Tayloe  put  his  own 
private  fortune  at  Warburton's  disposal  and  when 
there  was  an  actual  run  on  the  Trust  Company  it 


To  Make  or  Break  299 

was  that  fortune  hastily  converted  into  gold  that 
finally  checked  it. 

The  battle  resolved  itself,  as  such  conflicts 
usually  do,  into  a  matching  of  purses.  Not  even 
Warburton  alone,  great  as  were  his  resources 
and  high  as  was  his  credit,  could  hope  to  win  out 
against  such  a  combination  as  he  and  the  world, 
which  watched  the  battle  as  eagerly  as  the  old 
Romans  watched  the  life  and  death  struggles  in 
the  arena,  realized  must  be  back  of  the  attack. 
He  must  have  assistance.  Trusted  agents  were 
hurriedly  dispatched  to  get  in  touch  with  strong 
men  and  enlist  their  co-operation. 

Help  came  to  him,  however,  from  an  unexpected 
source.  Into  his  office  one  day  an  odd,  quaint, 
curious  figure  of  a  man  forced  himself.  He  had  no 
card  to  give  to  the  clerks  outside.  He  refused 
to  impart  his  name.  He  would  not  discuss  his 
business.  He  simply  insisted  on  seeing  Warbur- 
ton. His  persistence  at  last  got  him  past  the 
guards  that  hedge  about  the  great  American  busi- 
ness man. 

Warburton,  haggard,  worn  but  outwardly  calm, 
imperturbable  in  bearing,  greeted  him  briefly. 

"Your  name?"  he  said  sharply. 

"Huntley,  Jonathan  Huntley, "  returned  the 
curious  old  man  whose  face  and  speech  and  clothes 
and  bearing  indicated  rusticity,  but  in  whom 
Warburton,  accustomed  to  read  men,  detected  a 
certain  shrewdness  and  keenness.  "Not  that  it 
means  anything  to  you,"  the  newcomer  added. 


300          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Your  business?" 

"Farmer." 

"I  mean  your  business  with  me. " 

"Well,  from  what  I  can  larn  you're  up  agin  it 
pretty  hard  an'  it  struck  me  that  I  \  could  he'p 
you." 

Warburton  was  wise  enough  not  to  disdain  possi- 
ble help  from  any  source. 

"Your  will  to  do  so  pleases  me.  Is  your  power 
equal  to  your  purpose?" 

"I  guess  'tis,  "  said  the  old  man.  "As  I  figgered 
it  out  somebody  is  tryin'  to  put  you  out  of  the 
I-O." 

As  everybody  now  knew  that  Warburton,  ordi- 
narily uncommunicative,  nodded. 

"Right." 

"Nobody's  got  any  special  interest  in  beatin'  you 
out  of  that  railroad  'ceptin'  the  compeetin'  rail- 
roads. " 

"I  have  no  evidence  to  that  fact  but  I  have  no 
doubt  it's  true. " 

"That's  the  way  it  'peared  to  me.  Somebody 
might  have  a  private  grudge  agin  you  in  the 
beginnin'  but  it's  too  big  for  that  now." 

"Right  again,"  assented  the  other,  now  deeply 
interested. 

"I  gener'ly  aims  to  keep  in  tech  with  what's 
goin'  on  an'  I  know  there  ain't  nobody  that  cares 
a  whoop  in  Halifax  for  the  I-O  'ceptin'  you  an'  the 
friends  you  have  made  for  it. " 

"The  friends  I  have  made  have  joined  hands 


To  Make  or  Break  301 

with  the  opposition,  "  said  Warburton  grimly,  "and 
hundreds  of  people  who  owned  little  blocks  of 
stock,  which  when  I  bought  it  were  worth  nothing 
and  which  before  this  attack  I  had  brought  legiti- 
mately up  to  between  sixty  and  seventy,  have  sold 
their  stock  and  added  to  the  panic." 

"How  are  you  comin'  out  with  it?" 

Warburton  looked  at  the  old  man  closely. 

"You  might  be  an  emissary,  a  spy.  You  might 
belong  to  the  other  side. " 

"Look  me  over  agin,"  said  the  other.  "Look 
me  over  keerful.  I  calk'late  you  ain't  got  where 
you  are  without  bein'  some  jedge  o'  men.  Do  I 
look  like  that  kind  of  a  man?" 

Warburton  stared  at  his  old  visitor. 

' '  You  don't, ' '  he  said.  ' '  After  all,  why  shouldn't 
I  trust  you.  Everybody  knows  I'm  up  against  it 
hard.  I'm  not  beaten  yet  but  I  can't  keep  the 
fight  up  much  longer.  Every  resource  I've  got  on 
earth  has  been  pledged.  I've  bought  and  bought 
and  bought,  loaned  my  stock,  received  it  back 
again,  loaned  it  again  and  again,  and  the  price  still 
goes  down." 

"And  if  you  don't  git  no  he'p  you're  goin'  to 
smash,  an'  the  railroad " 

"The  railroad  is  all  right,  but  if  I  fail  they  can 
buy  in  the  stock  and  then  run  the  road  to  suit 
themselves. " 

"Them  compeetin'  lines'll  be  in  power  agin! 
Well,  your  road  runs  right  through  my  town, " — 
he  mentioned  the  name  of  the  seat  of  one  of  the 


302         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

thriftiest  and  most  fertile  counties  on  the  line— 
"The  people  o'  that  county  kind-a  looks  up  to  me. 
I  own  a  bank  there  an'  I've  got  several  good  farms, 
a  little  grist  mill,  an'  a  gener'l  store." 

"I  see." 

"On  my  advice  when  this  I-O  road  was  pro- 
jected they  all  bought  stock  in  it.  The  compeetin' 
roads  treated  us  vilely.  They  bled  us  to  death 
on  their  freight  rates  an'  their  gener'l  conduct  has 
left  a  kind-a  feelin'  of  bitter  hatred  agin  'em  in  our 
town.  We  thought  we  seen  a  way  to  beat  'em 
when  the  I-O  come  through  but  them  fellers  jest 
about  wrecked  it.  I  knowed  it  was  good  pro- 
perty an'  I  persuaded  my  friends  an'  neighbours 
to  hold  on.  Then  you  took  it  an'  things  begun 
to  look  brighter.  We've  been  a-watchin'  you  build 
up  the  road.  Then  this  came  on  an'  some  of  'em 
got  scared  agin  but  I  persuaded  'em  to  hold  on  a 
second  time.  Now  I  calk'late  that  between  us  we 
control  about  fifty  thousand  shares  of  stock." 

Warburton's  eyes  flashed.  That  fifty  thousand 
shares  of  stock  might  make  or  break  him. 

"You  see,  of  course,"  said  the  old  farmer,  who 
had  been  shrewdly  watching  his  face.  "Well 
t'other  side  sees  too.  A  young  feller  named 
Alton  has  telegraphed  us  a  proposition  for  our 
stock. " 

"What  did  you  say?" 

"I  told  him  I'd  take  it  under  advisement  an' 
come  down  to  New  York  an'  let  him  know  today. ' ' 

"Good.     What  do  you  propose  to  do?" 


To  Make  or  Break  303 

"Some  men  might  auction  it  off  between  the 
two  of  ye  to  git  the  best  price  for  it." 

"Some  men  might. " 

"But  I  ain't  that  kind." 

"No." 

"Sure  not.  We  likes  the  way  you  took  hold  of 
the  road  an'  what  you  done  for  it  an'  I  believe  its 
future  is  safer  in  your  hands  than  anybody's,  so 
I  come  down  here  to  ask  you  what  I  could  do  to 
he'p  you  out  with  that  stock.  The  game  is  a  leetle 
too  big  for  me  but  I  calk'late  you  know  how  to 
play  it." 

"I  do." 

"Jest  suppose  that  stock  was  your  own,  what'd 
you  do?" 

"This, "  answered  Warburton.  "Meet  them  as 
you  agreed.  Give  them  an  option  to  borrow  the 
stock,  ask  them  a  million  for  it.  Make  them  give 
you  a  certified  check  for  that  amount.  Tell 
them  that  you  haven't  got  it  with  you,  that  it's 
distributed  among  your  friends  and  neighbours 
but  that  you  can  go  and  get  it  together. " 

"They  wouldn't  believe  me." 

"Probably  not.  Give  them  a  certified  check 
for  two  million  to  be  forfeited  in  case  you  don't 
deliver  the  stock  say  one  week  from  today. " 

"An'  what'd  they  do  with  the  stock  if  they  got 
it?" 

"Deliver  it  to  me  at  the  last  minute  and  if  I 
could  not  pay  for  it  on  sight,  they'd  get  me." 

"I  see!     It  sounds  mighty  simple.  " 


304          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"All  great  business  deals  are  simple." 

"There's  only  one  thing  agin  it. " 

"What's  that?" 

"I'm  pretty  well  fixed  but  I  ain't  got  no  two 
million." 

"I  have.  It's  almost  the  last  that  I  have, "  said 
Warburton.  "You  know  that  both  checks  will 
be  deposited  in  escrow.  That  is  put  in  care  of  some 
bank.  You  can't  cash  their  option  check  until  you 
deliver  the  stock,  they  can't  cash  your  forfeit 
check  unless  you  fail  to  deliver. " 

"I  see." 

"When  the  time  comes  you  don't  deliver." 

"An'  lose  your  two  million?" 

"Exactly.  They  will  offer  you  any  price  for 
that  stock.  They  will  offer  to  give  you  back  your 
two  million  and  as  much  more  and  as  much  more 
perhaps  than  that.  They've  got  to  have  it  or 
lose." 

"They  can  offer  an'  be  jiggered,"  said  the 
old  man  grimly.  "If  you  win  the  stock'll  be 
worth " 

"Whatever  we  want  to  make  it, "  said  Warbur- 
ton. "I'll  buy  it  at  your  own  price  if  you  wish  to 
sell  it  after  the  battle  is  over,  and  you  know  in 
whose  hands  the  road  and  its  patrons  will  fare 
best." 

"I  do  an'  if  you  win  I  calk'late  to  hold  on  to  it. " 

The  matter  being  so  important,  Warburton  went 
to  the  Trust  Company  himself  where  the  necessary 
transactions  were  carried  out  and  farmer  Huntley 


To  Make  or  Break  305 

and  his  certified  check  went  to  meet  the  conspir- 
ators. A  young  man  from  Warburton's  office  who 
was  unknown  to  Alton  and  Neyland  went  with 
him  to  pilot  him  through  the  intricacies  and  tech- 
nicalities of  the  deal  the  main  principles  of  which 
he  possessed  thoroughly. 

Warburton  still  had  a  last  group  of  gilt-edge 
securities  but  when  that  was  expended  he  was 
at  the  end  of  his  resources  even  to  a  heavy  mort- 
gage on  his  house  and  real-estate  holdings.  His 
friends  had  helped  him  but  the  general  public 
had  got  the  speculative  fever  and  short  selling  on 
the  exchange  was  tremendous.  The  crisis  could 
not  long  be  postponed.  Wall  Street  was  on  the 
verge  of  panic.  Holders  of  all  kinds  of  stocks  were 
selling  out,  loans  were  refused  on  usually  accept- 
able collateral  forcing  fresh  sales,  and  every  hour 
saw  lower  and  lower  prices  all  through  the  list. 

Some  of  the  fear  of  Warburton's  hitherto  in- 
vincible name  got  into  some  of  the  members  of  the 
combination.  He  was  so  cool,  so  calm,  and  imper- 
turbable. He  was  so  confident  and  shrewd  in  every 
utterance  he  made  that  they  themselves  had  be- 
gun to  feel  as  worried  and  as  apprehensive  as  they 
had  hoped  to  make  him  feel.  Yet  on  the  whole 
their  position  seemed  to  be  better  than  Warbur- 
ton's and  the  general  public,  even  the  keenest 
observers  among  them,  expected  that  in  the  final 
show-down  Warburton  would  be  broken.  He 
would  lose  the  road  and  everything  else  that  he 
had,  which  he  had  used  to  protect  it. 


306          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Warburton  had  gradually  acquired  a  large 
majority  of  the  I-O  stock  and  in  addition  thereto 
had  contracts  for  the  delivery  of  many  thousand 
shares — the  short  stock  sold  by  the  pool  which  did 
not  exist  in  fact!  When  he  should  demand  de- 
livery the  conspirators  must  find  the  stock.  The 
only  source  of  large  supply  was  Warburton  him- 
self and  the  Huntley  fifty  thousand  shares.  At 
the  final  settlement  whatever  price  Warburton 
fixed  would  have  to  be  paid,  provided  he  won  and 
controlled. 

Could  he  stand  the  strain  until  the  day  of 
reckoning?  Would  Huntley  prove  to  be  true 
blue?  If  he  failed  him  and  the  conspirators  got 
hold  of  that  fifty  thousand  shares  which  would 
have  to  be  paid  for —  No !  No !  Huntley  could  be 
depended  upon. 

Until  the  last  the  conspirators  had  kept  back 
one  resource — Chrissey  Warburton 's  fortune. 
Almost  as  hard  put  to  it  as  Warburton  to  raise 
money  Neyland  had,  nevertheless,  clung  eagerly 
to  that  as  the  last  shot  in  the  locker  so  to 
speak.  Neyland  had  sworn  that  he  would  not  use 
it  until  the  last  moment  nor  would  he  use  it  until 
its  use  would  clinch  the  deal  and  make  assurance 
double  sure.  That  moment  had  come  the  day  be- 
fore the  divorce  had  been  granted  and  it  had  gone 
into  the  pool.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that  the 
opposition  could  lose.  Their  option  on  the  Huntley 
stock  with  its  tremendous  forfeit  made  them  cer- 
tain that  at  the  last  moment  they  could  offer 


To  Make  or  Break  307 

it  to  Warburton  and  he  could  not  take  it. 
The  size  of  that  forfeit  reassured  them.  Warbur- 
ton 's  reason  for  posting  such  an  enormous  forfeit 
was  justified.  If  Huntley  were  true  all  would  be 
well.  Every  undertaking  in  the  world  depends  in 
its  last  analysis  upon  the  fidelity  of  some  man 
or  woman. 

In  the  excitement  of  these  last  two  weeks  Chris- 
sey  Warburton  had  fully  shared  since  on  her  lov- 
er's representations  she  had  put  her  whole  fortune 
at  his  absolute  disposal  for  the  deal.  Strangely 
enough  she  wanted  Warburton  beaten.  She 
wranted  him  brought  down  to  poverty.  She 
would  not  admit  it  if  any  one  else  had  said  so  but 
if  she  were  the  possessor  of  the  fortune  and  he 
were  poor  she  might —  But  what  was  the  use  of 
thinking  that  since  she  was  going  to  be  Neyland's 
wife? 

Well,  if  Warburton  were  beaten,  as  every  paper 
in  New  York  stated  he  would  be  after  the  battle 
became  a  public  affair,  he  would  be  ruined  and  she 
with  all  the  others  in  the  combination  would  make 
millions.  She  had  a  distinct  purpose  in  her  mind 
to  give  back  to  Warburton  what  she  made  in  order 
that  he  might  start  again.  Thus  her  action  in 
transferring  the  control  of  her  securities  to  Ney- 
land  meant  one  thing  to  Neyland  and  another  to 
herself. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

SWEPT    AWAY 

Now  the  growing  strain  of  this  battle  had  become 
terrific.  Neyland  had  to  sustain  with  it  another 
battle,  an  inward  strife,  which  through  each  suc- 
ceeding day  also  grew  more  terrible,  and  to  which 
each  hour  found  him  more  unequal.  He  had  sworn 
a  high  oath  to  such  gods  as  he  believed  in  that  he 
would  not  give  way  to  the  temptation  which  had 
so  often  brought  him  low.  His  friends  had  laughed 
at  his  strange  but  steady  refusal  even  to  taste 
what  was  so  freely  poured  out  before  him.  He 
had  gone  back  into  society,  naturally  into  its  fastest 
and  most  extravagant  set  to  which  he  belonged, 
but  everywhere  and  at  all  times  he  had  refused  to 
break  his  rule  to  touch  nothing.  He  gave  no 
reason  and  no  one  knew  it  was  for  her  sake. 

Neyland  had  no  special  religious  bent.  Like 
many  another  man  he  scarcely  knew  what  he 
believed.  Certainly  he  never  formulated  his  creed. 
But  as  well  as  he  could  he  tried  to  strengthen  his 
courage  by  whatever  voiceless  prayer  he  could 
make  to  whatever  Power  there  might  be  above 
him.  The  pressure  on  him  was  tremendous. 

308 


Swept  Away  309 

Presently  something  of  it  appeared  in  his  letters 
where  Chrissey  Warburton  detected  it  instantly. 
She  had  encouraged  him  and  appealed  to  him  and 
stimulated  him  in  the  double  battle.  If  she  had 
loved  him  her  efforts  would  have  been  more 
effective,  but  since  she  did  not  there  was  always 
back  of  what  she  said  an  expression  which  he 
rightly  enough  considered  cruel,  a  determination 
that  if  he  failed  she  would  have  none  of  him. 

Singularly  enough  she  sometimes  awoke  to  a 
horrified  realization  that  she  almost  wished  he 
would  fail  so  as  to  give  her  an  excuse  for  breaking 
it  off.  The  excitement  of  the  battle,  the  nervous 
tension  of  the  mighty  financial  conflict,  and  the 
inward  fight  against  temptation  told  on  him. 
The  habits  of  a  lifetime  are  hard  to  unlearn. 
Three  months  in  New  York  had  gone  far  to  undo 
three  months  in  Labrador. 

Neyland  found  himself  praying  that  it  might 
soon  be  over.  If  the  double  strain  kept  up  much 
longer  he  would  be  unequal  to  it.  Sometimes  he 
cursed  the  day  on  which  he  had  been  born  and  the 
memory  of  his  father  and  his  mother,  who  had  given 
him  no  heritage  with  which  to  fight.  He  grew 
weaker  and  just  when  he  needed  most  the  passion- 
ate devotion  of  a  woman,  in  spite  of  his  hope- 
fulness he  found  it  the  more  and  more  lacking  in 
her  letters.  His  terror  lest  he  might  fall,  which 
grew  more  and  more  pronounced  in  his  own  letters, 
awoke  her  pity  but  also  moved  her  contempt. 

And  yet  she  saw  just  deep  enough  into  the  soul 


310          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

of  Neyland  to  realize  the  greatness  of  the  struggle 
he  was  making  for  her.  She  had  to  admit  that 
she  was  not  helping  him  as  he  had  a  right  to  expect. 
And  it  was  that  consciousness  that  determined  her, 
if  he  did  not  give  way,  to  go  through  with  the  plan 
to  the  marital  end. 

Certainly  he  would  deserve  the  reward  if  he 
succeeded  in  keeping  the  faith.  Given  his  ances- 
try, his  habit  of  life,  his  custom  of  indulgence, 
that  he  had  so  far  triumphed  was  marvellous. 
Save  for  his  own  letters  she  was  left  without 
other  means  of  knowing  what  was  toward,  for  Rose 
Tayloe  had  long  since  married  the  Duke  and  they 
had  gone  back  to  Italy.  And  naturally  not  even 
so  dependent  a  man  as  Neyland  could  bring  him- 
self to  tell  her  all.  There  were  deeps  in  his  soul, 
scenes  of  conflict,  temptations,  which  he  could  not 
reveal  to  her.  But  for  her  sake  he  would  keep  on 
trying.  The  letters  showed  her  what  desperate 
straits  he  had  been  through. 

One  of  the  things  to  which  Chrissey  eagerly 
looked  forward  was  seeing  Rose  Tayloe  again,  for 
the  new  Duchessa  di  Attavanti  expected  to  return 
to  America  with  her  husband  early  in  the  summer. 
A  letter  received  that  very  day  had  been  mailed 
just  before  her  departure  from  Italy.  In  Chrissey 
de  Selden's  pocket  with  the  decree  of  divorce  there 
was  also  the  daily  letter  from  Neyland.  She  had 
not  cared  enough  to  read  it  before.  It  was  like  the 
others,  only  more  pitiful.  He  was  weaker.  His 
resisting  power  was  less.  He  did  not  know  whether 


Swept  Away  311 

he  could  stand  the  strain.  The  temptation  was 
horrible.  The  situation  was  the  more  awful 
because  he  said  Warburton  was  a  ruined  man 
absolutely.  He  had  practically  won  the  material 
battle.  Could  he  win  the  spiritual  one  ?  He  could 
not  tell. 

The  next  four  days  would  determine  both  ques- 
tions. The  success  of  the  combination  was  settled 
beyond  peradventure  now,  so  he  declared.  War- 
burton  was  beaten  beyond  recovery.  The  opposi- 
tion had  learned  that  every  resource  at  his 
command  had  been  employed,  that  his  credit  had 
been  strained  to  the  breaking  point,  and  that  noth- 
ing availed.  Richard  Neyland  had  done  it.  There 
was  triumph  in  that  announcement,  clear  and 
undisguised.  He  had  avenged  all  the  insults 
Warburton  had  heaped  on  him  and  all  the  misery 
that  Warburton  had  caused  her,  so  he  wrote. 

It  was  for  her  sake  that  he  had  done  it.  Yet  he 
repeated  that  such  was  his  own  condition  that  he 
hardly  knew  whether  he  could  survive  the  strain. 
He  was  like  a  runner  who  leads  the  field,  who  sees 
the  goal  before  him,  who  knows  that  if  he  can 
maintain  the  pace  a  little  longer  he  will  win  the 
race,  but  who  hears  the  panting  breath  of  the  pur- 
suing enemy  at  his  shoulder!  She  read  again 
the  last  pages  of  the  letter: 


I  am  determined  to  succeed,  for  if  I  fail  I  lose  you. 
I  have  come  to  see  things  differently  since  you  have 
loved  me.  If  I  can't  be  worthy  of  you  I  won't  claim 


312          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

you.  You  don't  know  what  temptation  is.  You  can 
have  no  idea  how  it  confronts  me.  I  have  scarcely 
slept.  I  haven't  eaten.  I'm  living  on  your  love 
alone.  And,  oh  forgive  me,  I  cannot  bear  to  say  it, 
but  it  doesn't  seem  to  me  that  you  have  given  me  that 
support  I  have  a  right  to  ask  from  a  heart  that  truly 
loves,  that  I  expected  from  you,  dearest.  That  is 
what  makes  it  so  hard.  With  love  all  things  are 
possible.  Without  it — well  you  know  what  life  is 
without  it! 

I'm  a  little  mad  tonight  I  think,  dear  heart.  Do 
you  love  me  after  all  and  can  you  love  me  to  the  end  ? 
Can  any  one  love  a  man  so  weak  as  I  ?  I  ought  not  to 
tell  you,  it  isn't  good  policy.  I  should  dwell  upon  the 
triumph  that  awaits  me,  the  happiness  to  which  I  look 
forward,  but  I  can  have  no  secrets  from  you.  My 
heart  is  breaking  because  my  will  is  breaking.  If  you 
would  save  me,  write  me,  telegraph  me,  and  at  the 
first  moment  come  to  me. 

The  great  God,  if  such  there  be,  alone  knows  how  I 
have  struggled.  I  have  said  it  was  for  my  manhood 
but  it  was  for  you.  I  am  on  the  brink  of  failure,  a 
failure  the  more  terrible  because  it  is  a  mental,  a 
spiritual  failure  that  goes  side  by  side  with  the  material 
success.  Help  me!  Save  me!  You  alone  can  do  it, 
if  you  even  care.  By  what  can  I  appeal  to  you? 
Yet  as  I  live  it  is  your  happiness  of  which  I  think 
rather  than  my  own.  I  said  once  I  would  accept 
any  fate  in  any  future  to  insure  that  and  that  is 
true. 

The  lawyers  assure  me  that  there  will  be  no  possi- 
bility of  your  failing  to  receive  the  divorce.  Perhaps 
when  you  get  this  letter  it  will  already  have  been 
granted  to  you.  If  you  love  me  telegraph  me  instantly. 


Swept  Away  313 

I  cannot  come  to  you  now  as  I  should  have.  I  must 
stay  to  see  the  end  of  Warburton.  But  the  minute 
that  battle  is  over  I  shall  be  yours.  And  yet,  oh 
woman  that  I  love,  standing  so  far  above  me,  my 
passion  for  you  has  shown  me  that  unless  you  can 
return  my  love  in  some  measure  I  won't  condemn  you 
for  casting  me  off.  If  you  do  not  love  me,  even  though 
I  have  you  as  my  wife,  I  could  never  conquer  myself, 
and  life  with  me  would  be  hell  for  you — yes,  and  for 
me. 

I  love  you,  I  love  you,  I  love  you.  If  I  can  only 
stand  up  these  next  few  days 

The  letter  broke  off  abruptly.  It  accurately 
represented  the  man — independence  and  depend- 
ence, strength  and  weakness,  power  and  helpless- 
ness. The  words  burned  themselves  in  her  soul. 
What  was  she,  a  Frankenstein?  Had  she  no  soul 
that  even  this  could  not  arouse  her,  could  not 
waken  her  heart? 

Now  she  knew  very  well  what  love  was.  She 
loved  Warburton.  It  was  his  picture  not  Ney land's 
that  rose  before  her  eyes.  She  saw  him  suddenly 
against  the  wall,  wrecked,  ruined,  humiliated, 
changed.  Neyland  had  written  her  before  that  it 
was  her  fortune  which  he  had  thrown  into  the 
effort  at  the  last  minute  that  had  completed  War- 
burton's  undoing.  She  loved  him,  not  Neyland. 
Sometimes  love  is  the  cruelest  thing  on  earth. 
It  was  cruel  to  Neyland  now. 

She  gathered  up  the  papers,  thrust  them  into  the 
pocket  of  her  jacket,  and  went  out  into  the  woods. 


314         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Far  from  observation,  away  from  the  haunts  of 
men,  in  a  secret  place  in  the  hills  she  loved  she 
flung  herself  down  on  her  face  and  clenched  her 
hands.  Her  cheek  touched  that  bracelet  she  had 
worn.  With  raised  head  she  looked  at  it  a  long 
time.  Finally  she  sat  up  and  drew  it  from  her 
arm.  It  spoke  no  message  her  heart  craved  now. 
Hard  by  a  brook  flowed  down  from  the  mountain 
crest  into  the  dashing  green  torrent  of  the  Truckee 
River  in  the  valley.  The  melting  snows  in  the 
summer  heats  had  filled  the  brook  brimful.  She 
stared  at  the  bracelet  in  her  hand  for  a  long  time. 
She  made  her  decision  with  reluctance,  with 
hesitation,  but  with  finality. 

She  could  not  marry  Neyland.  What  had  he 
said?  His  own  words  had  given  her  the  reason. 
She  could  not  disguise  from  him  if  she  were  with 
him  the  fact  that  she  did  not  love  him.  She  knew 
what  a  hell  a  loveless  marriage  made.  In  that  hell 
he  would  be  weaker  than  ever.  After  all  it  was 
not  so  much  his  love  for  her  that  kept  him  up  as 
hers  for  him.  And  she  did  not  love  him.  It  was 
better  that  he  should  know  it  now  than  later.  If 
he  fell  now  he  would  only  anticipate  what  would 
inevitably  happen  later  and  again  and  again.  It 
was  cruel  but  merciful.  So  she  argued — speciously 
or  otherwise? 

The  circlet  of  silver  with  its  strange  settings  lay 
dull  in  her  hand,  its  message  unspoken.  ' '  A-E-I ! ' ' 
For  eternity?  Never!  Suddenly  she  rose  to  her 
feet.  She  threw  the  bracelet  from  her  into  the 


Swept  Away  315 

torrent  roaring  down  the  mountain.  A  little 
splash  and  it  was  gone. 

She  was  relieved  but  not  happy.  It  seemed  to 
her  that  she  had  no  heart,  no  soul.  She  called 
aloud  upon  God  as  she  had  done  before  in  the 
solitudes  of  the  wooded  hills  but  He  answered  not, 
neither  in  the  wind  that  stirred  the  pines,  nor  in 
the  roar  of  the  stream  as  it  tumbled  over  the  rocks 
on  the  mountain  side. 

Was  she  doing  right?  The  Church  did  not  sanc- 
tion the  marriage  of  divorced  people.  Was  she 
influenced  by  that?  And  if  so  to  what  extent? 
Or  was  it  only  that  she  loved  one  man  and  not  the 
other?  If  she  had  loved  Neyland,  what  then? 
Would  God,  the  Church,  the  Priest — she  could  not 
tell.  Had  she  any  right  to  expect  that  God  would 
hear  her?  Was  love  always  cruel  to  someone? 
She  had  been  cruel  to  Warburton.  If  he  still  loved 
her — and  the  doubt  gave  her  a  great  heart  pang — 
he  would  be  suffering  as  she  suffered  now. 

She  had  sought  happiness,  fondly  fancying  she 
might  get  it  in  freedom  from  Warburton  and  in 
union  with  Neyland,  but  it  was  not  to  be.  There 
was  not  to  be  any  joy  in  life  for  her  anywhere 
that  she  could  see.  Stop !  Failing  love,  she  might 
get  happiness  from  service.  She  would  go  back  to 
New  York.  She  would  make  over  to  Warburton 
her  share  of  the  winnings  of  the  great  combination. 
She  would  force  him  to  accept  it.  He  should  not 
know  whence  it  came.  She  dreamily  imagined  she 
could  comprise  that  impossible  task. 


316          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

And  then  she  would  go  to  Bermuda.  She  would 
seek  out  Father  Smith.  She  would  ask  him  to 
show  her  how  to  work  and  serve.  Perhaps  in  that 
way  she  could  atone.  She  could  make  amends. 
As  for  Neyland  he  must  go  his  own  way.  Selfish, 
cruel,  disloyal  though  her  course  might  be,  she 
could  no  other. 

She  went  back  to  the  house  after  spending  the 
whole  day  in  the  woods  alone.  Before  she  ate 
or  slept  she  wrote  a  letter  to  Neyland.  She  told 
him  that  she  had  been  mistaken,  that  she  realized 
even  better  than  he  what  a  loveless  marriage  would 
be,  that  while  she  had  been  willing  to  enter  upon  it, 
yet  if  she  did  she  would  damn  him  more  utterly, 
because  he  would  see  it,  than  if  she  broke  it  off 
then  by  telling  him  the  truth.  She  sent  a  man 
down  to  the  station  on  horseback  to  mail  her  letter 
on  the  night  express. 

The  last  argument  she  had  used  to  him  appealed 
to  her.  While  her  letter  might  hurl  Neyland 
into  the  depths  again,  whatever  effect  it  produced 
would  not  be  ultimately  as  bad  as  the  realization 
that  she  did  not  love  him  even  though  she  married 
him.  And  then  she  experienced  a  wave  of  pity 
for  him  which  was  more  akin  to  contempt  than  she 
would  have  acknowledged.  For  the  moment  she 
seemed  to  herself  a  monster  of  selfishness.  She 
wished  that  she  could  die  and  yet  in  the  relief 
of  her  decision  she  found  a  source  of  strength  which 
had  never  come  to  her  before. 

Whatever  the  motive,  love  of  Warburton,  pity  of 


Swept  Away  317 

Neyland,  the  slings  and  arrows  of  an  outraged  con- 
science, the  teachings  of  religion,  she  was  going 
to  follow  the  right  course  at  last.  How  pitiful  is  it 
that  the  right  course  for  the  individual  frequently 
brings  sorrow  and  shame  to  others!  Chrissey  de 
Selden,  as  she  was  now,  had  broken  Warburton's 
heart.  She  would  break  Neyland's.  And  her  own? 
Had  she  a  heart  ?  Who  was  she  that  this  malign 
power  had  been  given  to  her?  What  was  this  love 
that  swayed  her  back  and  forth  and  in  whose  name, 
like  that  of  liberty,  had  been  committed  so  many 
crimes? 

Moved  by  a  sudden  impulse  the  day  after  she 
dispatched  her  letter  she  took  the  train  for  New 
York. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

RECEIVING    THE    NEWS 

So  important  a  social  event  as  the  divorce  of  the 
wife  of  the  great  John  Warburton  could  not  take 
place  without  comment.  The  next  morning  it  was 
spread  broadcast  by  the  Associated  Press  and  it 
aroused  the  more  interest  because  of  the  desperate 
straits  to  which  her  husband  had  been  reduced  by 
the  great  combination.  Neyland  saw  it.  Warbur- 
ton saw  it.  These  two  were  looking  for  it.  There 
was  nothing  Warburton  could  do.  It  added  a 
grimmer  touch  to  his  already  grim  face.  It  in- 
tensified the  eternal  anguish  which  he  had  borne 
within  his  bosom,  concealed  as  the  wolf  that 
gnawed  the  vitals  of  the  Spartan,  which  had  never 
left  him  since  that  day  at  Bermuda. 

"John,"  said  Colonel  Tayloe  at  breakfast — 
they  had  been  living  together  ever  since  Rose's 
marriage — "I  suppose  you  saw  the  papers  this 
morning." 

"Yes." 

"Well?" 

" Don't  speak  of  it  please." 

"I  must.  I've  just  learned  that  the  funds  for 
318 


Receiving  the  News  319 

that  last  attack,  the  source  of  which  you  could  not 
fathom,  came  from  her. " 

"No,  not  that.     It  isn't  possible." 

"Yes.  Not  knowing  of  the  transfer  from  me 
some  brokers  consulted  me  about  some  interests 
of  hers,  and  with  that  as  a  clue  I  learned  that  she 
had  made  it  all  over  to " 

"Not  to  him?" 

"Yes." 

"Good  God!" 

"Your  wife " 

"  Not  since  this  morning. " 

"Her  fortune  will  go  with  the  rest." 

"Yes.     She  and  her  lover  will  both  be  ruined." 

"Warburton,"  began  the  Colonel  after  a  pause, 
"you're  too  big  a  man " 

"I  hope  so,"  he  answered,  divining  the  older 
man's  thought;  "I'll  depend  on  you.  We'll  get 
the  man  she — Neyland — to  fix  it  up  in  some  way. 
Perhaps  she  can  be  persuaded  that  her  fortune  had 
been  transferred  to  you  and  not  used  after  all." 

"Of  course.  That  is  just  what  I  wanted  to 
bring  out,  John." 

"She  is  going  to  be  unhappy  enough  with  that 
drunken  weakling,"  said  Warburton  passionately, 
"not  to  have  to  fight  poverty  as  well.  Oh,  God, " 
he  burst  out  suddenly,  completely  losing  his  self- 
control,  "how  I  care  for  that  woman!  I  love  her 
still.  If  I  had  only  taken  her  when  I  had  the 
power,  if — but  it's  too  late  now.  I'll  leave  you  to 
attend  to  these  details,  Colonel.  Just  say  how 


320         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

much  you  will  need  and  I'll  draw  you  the  check. 
The  settlement  must  soon  come.  They  can't  keep 
it  up  much  longer.  You  can  fix  it  up  afterward. " 

"Warburton, "  said  the  older  man  earnestly, 
"I  never  heard  of  such  magnanimity.  You  gave 
her  up,  you  let  her  get  an  uncontested  divorce  in 
order  to  marry  another  man,  who  has  sought  to 
crush  you,  and  now  you  give  her  back  her  fortune. 
I  don't  understand  it." 

"Yes,  you  do,"  answered  Warburton.  "When 
a  man  like  me  loves  a  woman  he  loves  her  abso- 
lutely and  for  ever.  It's  her  happiness,  not  mine 
that  counts.  I  know  how  miserable  she  is  going 
to  be.  There  is  nothing  I  can  do  to  help  her  but 
this.  Now,  for  God's  sake  don't  mention  it  to  me 
again.  I  can't  stand  it.  This  struggle  with  that 
combination  has  just  about  given  me  all  I  can 
sustain.  Did  you  hear  from  Rose  this  morning?" 

"I  had  a  cablegram  from  the  Azores  relaying  a 
wireless  from  the  Ancona.  She  will  be  here  in  a 
few  days. " 

' '  Bring  them  here.  There's  room  enough  for  us 
all.  I'll  not  be  a  wet  blanket.  You  will  be  at  the 
exchange  or  at  the  Trust  Company  every  day  until 
the  issue  is  decided.  I  might  need  you  at  any 
time. " 

"I  wouldn't  miss  it  for  the  world,"  said  the 
Colonel.  "No  battle  I  ever  went  through  has 
equalled  this.  Let's  talk  the  matter  over  again. " 

To  the  day  of  his  death  Warburton  would  re- 
member with  gratitude  profound  the  good  friend- 


Receiving  the  News  321 

ship  with  which  he  had  been  blessed  in  Colonel  Tay- 
loe.  If  it  had  not  been  for  his  cheerful  society,  his 
pleasant  humour,  his  serene  optimism  Warburton 
could  scarcely  have  endured  his  position.  Colonel 
Tayloe  had  cherished  the  hope  that  things  would 
somehow  right  themselves  in  the  end.  He  could 
not  see  how  any  woman  could  prefer  Neyland  to 
Warburton.  And  Warburton  had  clung  to  the 
hope  too.  That  hope  the  announcement  of  the 
divorce  had  killed. 

Another  man  was  clinging  to  a  hope  that  seemed 
to  bid  fair  to  be  realized  when  first  his  eye  caught 
sight  of  the  flaming  headline  by  which  attention 
was  called  to  the  divorce.  His  heart  leaped  as  he 
read  it.  For  a  moment  he  was  eased  of  his  torment. 
For  a  brief  space  his  strength  returned  to  him. 
Every  moment  he  expected  to  hear  from  her. 

But  Neyland  waited  in  vain  for  a  telegram.  He 
knew  that  his  letter  beseeching  her  to  send  him  a 
wire  must  have  reached  her  the  day  the  divorce 
was  granted.  Already  twenty-four  hours  had 
elapsed  and  no  word  had  come.  He  threw  prudence 
to  the  winds.  He  forgot  in  those  hours  of  suspense 
and  longing  the  supreme  necessity  of  watching  the 
battle  on  the  stock  exchange.  He  was  consumed, 
obsessed  by  thoughts  of  her.  He  told  Alton  to 
look  after  things.  At  last,  when  he  could  stand 
it  no  longer  he  boldly  sent  her  a  wire : 

"For  God's  sake,  if  you  love  me  telegraph  me. " 

Thereafter  he  waited  until  late  in  the  night  but 
received  no  reply.  In  his  agitation  it  did  not 


322          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

occur  to  him  to  ascertain  whether  his  wire  had  been 
delivered  or  not.  As  a  matter  of  fact  it  did  not 
reach  Reno  until  she  had  gone.  Her  departure 
had  been  circumspect,  not  to  say  secret.  The 
servants  at  the  camp,  who  were  to  pack  up  and 
follow,  had  been  given  strict  orders  to  say  nothing. 
They  refused  to  accept  the  telegram.  It  did 
not  seem  to  be  of  moment  and  it  was  not  relayed 
to  her  train.  She  knew  nothing  of  it. 

The  strain  of  her  silence  was  the  last  straw  to  poor 
Neyland.  He  could  fight  no  longer.  Once  more 
and  after  six  months  he  fell.  Let  no  man  who  has 
not  grappled  with  such  an  appetite  condemn  him 
for  the  fall  or  wonder  at  the  greatness  and  the 
swiftness  of  his  descent. 


323 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE  WOMAN   OF  THE  STREET 

THE  small  room  in  which  Neyland  found  himself 
was  strange  to  him.  He  had  never  been  in  it 
before.  He  had  no  realization  how  he  came  to  be 
in  it  then.  It  was  indescribably  mean  and  poor  in 
all  its  appointments.  It  was  not  even  clean. 
There  was  in  evidence,  however,  a  sort  of  make- 
believe,  shabby  finery  of  incredible  vulgarity  that 
would  have  filled  him  with  disgust  if  he  had  taken 
time  to  consider. 

From  where  he  lay  in  sickening  disorder  of  mind, 
body  and  clothes  upon  a  frightful  bed  he  could  see 
the  dirty  window-panes  behind  cheap  lace  curtains 
languidly  wavering  in  the  hot,  sickly  wind  that 
came  up  from  the  reeking  street  through  the  half- 
opened  sash.  Mingled  with  the  odour  of  cheap 
perfume,  the  unsavoury  smell  of  bad  cooking,  were 
a  thousand  other  stews  of  poverty  and  shame. 

He  turned  his  head  away  from  the  window  and 
his  feverish  glance  fell  upon  a  frowzy,  dishevelled, 
half-dressed  woman.  She  was  thin  of  person, 
haggard  of  face,  repulsive  in  appearance  in  spite 
of  inartistic  dabs  of  colour  on  her  sunken  cheeks. 

325 


326         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

A  bit  of  rumpled  scarlet  ribbon  twisted  in  the 
imitation  lace  of  a  cheap  negligee  only  served 
to  accentuate  the  soiled  white  of  her  under- 
garments. She  was  as  unfamiliar  to  him  as  the 
room.  She  fitted  the  room  perfectly.  Neither 
fitted  Neyland. 

How  long  he  had  been  there  he  did  not  know. 
Apparently  from  the  hot  sunlight  streaming 
through  the  narrow  window  it  was  afternoon. 
His  awakening  had  been  without  sound.  He  had 
scarcely  stirred  on  the  bed.  He  had  attracted  no 
attention.  She  was  not  looking  at  him.  She 
was  busy  cooking  some  unappetizing  mess  on  a 
little  stove  attached  to  a  gas  jet  by  a  rubber  tube. 
The  smell  of  the  food  was  horribly  nauseating. 
There  were  several  empty  bottles  on  a  table.  The 
odour,  rank  and  hateful,  of  cheap,  vile  whiskey 
came  to  his  sickened  senses  as  he  looked  upon  them. 

Her  deadly  profession  had  left  its  inevitable 
marks  upon  her.  Want,  neglect,  hunger,  thirst, 
bodily  desecration,  all  had  signed  her,  the  last 
worse  than  all  the  others.  Dissipation — physical, 
mental,  and  spiritual — had  wrecked  her.  She 
had  gone  down,  down,  down,  her  last  place  of 
business  the  street,  her  last  resort  this  wretched 
room.  Drink,  debauchery,  and  disease  claimed 
her  for  their  own.  Her  final  haven  would  be  six 
feet  of  earth  in  the  Potter's  field.  And  that  soon. 

Neyland  looked  at  her  uncomprehendingly  at 
first,  but  as  he  gradually  realized  what  his  presence 
there  meant,  what  had  been  the  end  of  that  failure 


The  Woman  of  the  Street        327 

of — was  it  the  night  before? — his  heart  was  filled 
with  loathing  for  her,  shame  and  contempt  for 
himself — such  self-scorn  as  for  the  moment  made 
him  oblivious  to  the  desperate,  physical  cravings 
and  agonies  of  his  body.  Another  man — perhaps 
even  he — under  other  circumstances  would  have 
felt  pity  for  this  wretched  child  of  humanity, 
scarcely  yet  a  woman,  this  poor  bit  of  human 
flotsam  about  to  be  cast  ashore  and  buried  in  the 
sands  that  border  the  sea  of  oblivion — merciful 
fate  did  she  but  know  it ! 

But  Neyland  had  no  room  for  these  thoughts 
now.  To  him  she  was  not  a  woman  even.  She  was 
just  the  sign  by  which  he  recognized  his  degrada- 
tion and  shame.  It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had 
awakened  in  that  way  under  similar  circumstances, 
but  he  had  never  sunk  so  low  before.  He  had  never 
so  thoroughly  and  completely  plumbed  the  deeps 
of  shame.  He  had  a  dim  recollection  that  after 
the  first  taste  of  the  night  before,  or  was  it  two  or 
three  nights,  or  longer  before,  he  could  not  tell,  he 
had  gone  mad.  He  remembered  how  he  had 
struggled  at  first,  how  he  had  said  he  would  stop 
and  then  he  found  he  could  not.  He  recalled 
leaving  his  apartment.  He  remembered  a  long 
drive  in  a  taxicab  through  brightly  lighted  streets 
to  darker  quarters.  He  recollected  dismissing 
the  car  and  wandering  on  and  on  afoot.  He 
remembered  drinking  again  and  again  at  every 
door  open  to  him  and  then — nothing  more  until 
this  awful  awakening. 


328         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Chrissey  de  Selden!  It  was  a  profanation  to 
think  upon  her  in  such  a  place  under  such  circum- 
stances, but  he  could  not  control  his  thoughts  any 
more  than  he  could  control  his  will,  his  nerves,  his 
body.  They  were  both  women, — she  and  this 
wretched  sister. 

Curiously  enough  Neyland  recalled  at  this  junc- 
ture a  certain  day  at  Naples  on  his  first  visit  there 
when  he  had  been  ushered  into  the  secret  rooms 
of  the  great  museum  by  a  leering  guide,  smiling  with 
base  suggestiveness  upon  him.  He  recollected 
how  he  had  presently  come  forth  therefrom  sick  at 
heart  at  the  frank,  unblushing  horrors  of  ancient 
Pompeii.  Thereafter  he  had  wandered  through 
the  rooms  unable  to  shut  out  what  he  had  seen 
until  he  had  come  into  the  great  apartment  in 
which  hung  the  wondrous  Pieta  of  Annibale 
Carracci — in  some  moods  and  under  some  circum- 
stances the  most  beautiful  picture  in  the  world. 
He  vividly  recalled  the  relief  with  which  he  had 
looked  at  it.  Yet  these  Daughters  of  Pompeii 
and  the  Mater  Dolorosa  were  alike  women ! — Filles 
dejoie  and  Mother  of  God,  alike  women! 

There  had  been  comfort,  consolation,  joy,  when 
he  gazed  upon  the  Pieta  that  day,  but  the  thought 
of  Chrissey  de  Selden  this  morning  filled  him 
with  the  greater  horror  because  of  the  present 
woman.  There  was  no  comfort  there.  Yet  they, 
too,  were  alike  women,  both  made  to  love,  to  be 
loved,  to  be  merry  or  sad. 

The  sickness  in  his  heart  was  accompanied  by 


The  Woman  of  the  Street       329 

a  hideous  sickness  of  body.  He  strove  against 
them  both,  scarcely  conscious  at  first  of  the  latter 
but  more  acutely  realizing  it  as  he  struggled  to  a 
sitting  position  and  sat  with  his  head  swimming, 
the  room  wavering  about  him,  the  woman's  form 
rising  and  falling  in  a  sort  of  strange  fantastic 
dance.  He  put  his  hands  to  his  head  to  steady 
himself,  to  his  brow  to  cover  his  eyes  and  shut 
out  what  he  saw. 

His  movements  attracted  the  woman's  attention. 
She  looked  up,  reached  her  grimy  hand  at  the 
end  of  a  pitifully  thin,  scragged,  naked  arm,  up 
to  the  gas  jet  and  turned  it  out. 

"You're  awake,  dearie,  at  last, "  she  began  in  a 
voice  that  she  strove  to  render  seductive  and  be- 
guiling in  spite  of  the  harshness  of  it — the  voice 
of  age  from  the  throat  of  youth. 

"How  long  have  I  been  here?"  he  began,  forcing 
speech,  though  every  word  tore  his  parched,  con- 
stricted throat  like  a  claw. 

"I  think  it's  three  days  or  maybe  four." 

"  Did  I  come  here  with  you?" 

"  Of  course.     How  else?  " 

"And  have  I  been  unconscious  all  the  time?" 

"  Not  all  the  time. ' '  She  pointed  to  the  bottles. 
"We  drank  those  together." 

"And  then?" 

He  could  not  say  the  words.  The  woman 
nodded. 

"My  God!"  exclaimed  the  man. 

"Have  you  got  one?" 


330          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"One  what?" 

"A  God?"  asked  the  woman. 

"No." 

"It's  just  a  figure  of  speech  with  you  as  with  me, 
I  guess.  Well,  the  rest  of  your  clothes  are  over 
yonder." 

She  pointed  to  a  broken-backed  divan  in  the 
corner  of  the  room.  What  he  was  not  wearing  was 
strewn  in  confusion  over  it  and  intermingled  as  if 
to  evidence  his  intimacy  with  her  own  tawdry 
finery — the  soiled  plumage  of  that  night-bird. 

"Here's  your  pocketbook, "  she  said,  opening 
the  drawer  of  the  table  and  handing  the  purse  to 
him.  '  'I  paid  for  the  whiskey  and  the  food.  But 
I  didn't  take  anything  except  my  just  dues.  I'm 
an  honest  woman." 

She  laughed  shrilly,  horribly  as  she  proffered  the 
book.  Neyland  waved  it  away  and  struggled  to 
his  feet. 

"Better  sit  still,"  she  said.  ^  "I'll  mix  you  up  a 
bracer.  I  know  how  you  feel.  Then  you  can  get 
a  bite  to  eat  and  beat  it.  Lord,"  she  continued, 
"you  were  the  drunkest  man  I  ever  saw  able  to 
keep  his  feet.  I  knew  in  a  minute  that  my  place 
wasn't  for  the  likes  of  you  and  that  I  wasn't  either. 
I  took  you  in  partly  because  of  that, "  she  went  on. 
"I  knew  a  man  once  that  kind-a  looked  like 
you." 

The  man  hid  his  face  in  his  hands  again  as  if 
vainly  trying  to  hide  his  shame.  The  woman  rose 
and  came  toward  him  after  a  few  moments  before 


The  Woman  of  the  Street        331 

a  broken-down  dresser.  She  proffered  him  a  con- 
coction which  she  had  made. 

"Here,  drink  this." 

"I  want  nothing,"  he  said,  waving  it  aside, 
"but  to  get  away.  God,  that  I  could  have  fallen 
so  low!" 

"You  couldn't  fall  much  lower  than  I  am,  that's 
a  fact, "  said  the  woman  brazenly,  "but  you  needn't 
put  on  any  airs  about  it,"  she  sneered. 

Neyland  staggered  over  to  where  his  coat,  vest, 
and  shoes  lay  and  put  them  on,  although  every 
movement  was  agony  and  his  ringers  would 
scarcely  do  the  work. 

"Let  me  help  you,  dearie,"  said  the  woman, 
coming  closer  to  him. 

He  shook  her  off  as  if  she  had  been  a  viper 
that  had  bitten  him.  His  movement  was  rougher 
than  he  imagined.  She  fell  back  against  the  wall 
and  some  colour  that  rivalled  the  permanent  paint 
suddenly  came  into  her  face. 

"Don't  touch  me,"  exclaimed  the  man  with  an 
oath  for  which  he  was  at  once  sorry. 

"Touch  you,"  answered  the  woman,  her  temper 
flaming,  "oh,  you  fool,  I've  touched  you  already. 
You've  got  my  brand  on  you  for  ever.  Mankind 
and  society  have  ground  me  down  but  I'm  getting 
even." 

Neyland  shuddered,  comprehending  too  well 
the  purport  of  her  envenomed  words.  He  got  into 
his  clothes  in  some  fashion.  He  turned  to  the  door. 

"You  might  at  least  say  'good-bye,'"  said  the 


332         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

woman  as  his  hand  fumbled  at  the  knob,  "and 
you're  forgetting  your  purse." 

Neyland  turned  back,  picked  up  his  pocketbook, 
took  from  it  a  five-dollar  bill,  which  he  put  in  his 
vest  pocket,  and  threw  the  purse  back  on  the  table. 

"Keep  it,"  he  said. 

"Do  you  think  I  want  your  dirty  money?" 

By  this  time  he  had  got  the  door  open.  She 
picked  the  pocketbook  up  and  threw  it  at  him  but 
her  aim  was  indifferent.  •  It  struck  the  jamb  and 
fell  to  the  floor  just  as  he  closed  the  door  behind 
him.  The  woman  looked  at  it  a  moment.  She 
staggered  over  to  it,  picked  it  up,  counted  the 
money  over  eagerly. 

"Five  hundred  dollars!"  she  shrieked. 

She  sank  down  in  the  chair,  threw  her  head  back, 
and  laughed.  There  was  a  little  whiskey  in  the 
nearest  bottle.  She  drank  it  down  eagerly. 

"  What  a  find ! "  she  cried.     "  What  afool ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

HOME 

So  far  as  he  could  tell  Neyland  found  that  he  was 
in  the  upper  hall  of  what  was  obviously  one  of  the 
meanest  and  most  horrible  tenements  in  New 
York.  Although  it  was  past  noon,  unkempt  heads, 
male  and  female,  peered  out  of  open  doors  as  he 
went  stumbling  down  the  dark,  narrow,  dirty 
stairs.  If  it  had  been  earlier  in  the  morning 
or  later  in  the  afternoon  he  might  never  have 
reached  the  street  alive.  He  still  had  his  watch, 
ring,  and  a  diamond  in  his  tie.  For  one  thing 
he  went  at  such  headlong  speed  that  no  oppor- 
tunity was  given  to  stop  him,  and  as  no  one  was 
expecting  any  one  to  go  out  then  no  one  was 
ready  to  offer  him  violence  or  to  seek  to  detain 
him. 

'By  great  good  fortune  as  he  left  the  rookery  he 
almost  fell  into  the  arms  of  a  policeman  on  the 
street.  It  was  a  street  on  which  he  had  never  been 
and  which  he  did  not  recognize.  He  knew  he  must 
be  in  the  lower  East  Side. 

"Officer,"  he  said,  clinging  to  the  door-post, 
"I'm  a  sick  man." 

333 


334         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"  You  look  it, "  laughed  the  policeman  in  amused 
contempt. 

The  officer  recognized  the  ailment.  He  had  seen 
similar  cases,  yet  he  gave  more  consideration  to 
Neyland  than  usual,  since  he  was  so  different 
from  the  habitues  of  that  district. 

"I  want  a  taxicab  or " 

"There  aren't  any  taxis  down  here  unless  they 
bring  people  like  you." 

"Some  conveyance  then,  anything  to  take  me 
home,"  pleaded  the  man,  too  ill  and  desperate  to 
resent  the  policeman's  careless  scorn. 

"There's  an  excuse  of  a  cab-stand  around -the 
corner,  leastways  once  in  a  while  there's  a  cab 
there.  Here  comes  one  now, "  said  the  officer,  look- 
ing down  the  street  into  which  a  shabby  hack  had 
just  turned.  "Shall  I  hail  it  for  you?" 

"Please." 

The  wretched  Neyland,  more  dead  than  alive, 
had  to  be  helped  into  the  cab.  The  officer  and  the 
driver  alike  opened  their  eyes  when  they  heard  the 
fashionable  and  exclusive  upper  Park  Avenue 
address  which  Neyland  gave  to  the  driver  as  he 
sank  down  in  a  helpless  huddle  on  the  seat. 

"Bad  case,"  said  the  officer  significantly  to  the 
cabman  as  the  latter  gathered  up  the  reins  and 
spoke  to  his  horse. 

It  was  a  half -starved  horse  and  a  reeking,  filthy 
cab.  Progress  through  the  crowded  lower  part 
of  New  York  was  slow  at  best.  It  seemed  hours 
to  the  miserable  man  within  before  the  cab 


Home  335 

stopped  at  his  door.  He  handed  the  man  the 
five-dollar  bill  he  had  had  the  forethought  to  reserve 
and  added  all  the  loose  silver  in  his  pocket  and  then 
staggered  painfully  up  the  few  steps  and  into  the 
foyer  hall. 

Neyland  had  occupied  these  apartments  for 
years.  It  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  come  home 
in  that  condition.  He  was  a  liberal  spender,  pleas- 
ant when  sober,  and  popular  with  the  servants  of 
the  house.  The  hall  man  caught  him  in  his  arms 
and  with  the  assistance  of  the  elevator  boy  got 
him  to  his  apartment. 

"Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you,  sir;  get  you 
anything?" 

" Nothing, "  answered  Neyland.     "  My  man? " 

"He  was  here  a  moment  ago,  sir.     I'll " 

Just  then  the  servant  came  from  his  quarters  in 
the  apartment. 

"Mr.  Neyland,  sir — "  he  began. 

"It's  all  right,  Judson,"  said  Neyland.  "I've 
just  come  another  cropper,  you  know,  and " 

"Yes  sir,"  said  the  man.  "You  can  go,"  he 
said  to  the  house  servants,  who  were  sure  of  a  big 
tip  later  if  they  kept  quiet.  "  I'll  fix  you  up  in  no 
time,  sir,"  he  continued  encouragingly. 

The  faithful  valet  had  often  received  his  master 
in  bad  condition.  Experiences  similar  to  this  had 
been  common  enough  in  his  long  period  of  service 
in  Neyland's  employ,  but  that  day  there  was  some- 
thing different  in  his  master's  bearing,  which  he 
could  hardly  define  but  which  vaguely  alarmed 


336         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

him,  and  Neyland's  next  words  increased  his 
apprehension. 

"I  don't  want  anything  now,  Judson,  but  to 
be  left  alone,"  was  the  unusual  answer.  "Take 
the  rest  of  the  day  off." 

"But  I  can't  leave  you  like  this,  Mr.  Neyland," 
persisted  the  man,  perplexed  and  now  thoroughly 
alarmed. 

"I  tell  you  I  don't  want  anybody  about  me. 
I've  got  to  be  alone.  I  want  to  think  things  over.  " 

The  servant,  his  face  full  of  solicitude  and  con- 
cern, opened  his  mouth  to  remonstrate  further  but 
Neyland  cut  him  short. 

"Did  you  hear  me?"  he  cried  out  with  a  sudden 
passion.  "Go!" 

"Very  well,  sir,"  returned  the  man. 

There  was  nothing  else  he  could  do  and  it 
occurred  to  him  that  it  might  be  dangerous  to 
cross  his  master  in  his  present  mood. 

"By  the  way,"  asked  Neyland  more  quietly, 
"what  day  is  it,  Judson?" 

"Friday  afternoon,  sir." 

"And  when  was  I  here  last?" 

"You  went  out  Tuesday  night,  sir;  at  least  you 
weren't  here  when  I  came  back  and " 

"Quite  so.  Has  there  been  any  telegram  for 
me?" 

"No,  sir.  Mr.  Alton  and  a  number  of  other 
gentlemen  have  called  up  constantly  but  I  had  to 
tell  them  I  didn't  know  where  you  were. " 

"That's  right.     No  telegram  you  say?" 


Home  337 

.    "None  at  all,  sir." 

"Nothing  from  Nevada?" 

Judson  knew  all  about  Neyland's  love  affair. 
Neyland's  business  mail  all  went  to  his  office  down 
town  and  only  personal  letters  came  to  the  apart- 
ment. 

"Only  one  letter,  sir." 

"A  letter!  For  God's  sake  where  is  it?  Why 
didn't  you  give  it  to  me — why " 

"Here  it  is,  sir,"  said  Judson,  taking  it  from  .the 
table. 

The  wretched  man  caught  it  quickly;  one  glance' 
and  he  recognized  the  handwriting.  He  laughed 
horribly  as  he  turned  it  over  in  his  hand. 

"Too  late,"  he  said  at  last,  for  the  moment 
oblivious  of  Judson.  ' 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?"  asked  the  valet,  who 
was  so  well  trained  that  nothing  but  a  crisis  of 
this  kind  would  have  made  him  venture  upon  so 
personal  a  question. 

"Nothing,  nothing.     Just  go,  that's  all." 

"Very  good,  sir;" 

"Before  you  go,  make  me  the  strongest  pick- 
me-up  you  can  concoct. " 

While  this  was  preparing  he  sat  down  in  a  col- 
lapsed heap,  holding  the  letter  crumpled  in  his 
hand  and  staring  at  it  half  uncomprehendingly. 

"Here  it  is,  sir,"  said  Judson  bringing  him  a 
brimming  glass.  "You'll  feel  better  if  you  drink 
that  and  take  a  hot  bath,  sir.  I  wish  you'd  let 


338          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I  know,  but  I'll  fix  it  myself.  " 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,  "  said  the  man,  "but  that  stock 
deal,  sir,  you  are — 

"It's  of  no  consequence,"  answered  Neyland, 
anxious  to  be  rid  of  the  man. 

' '  Some  of  the  gentlemen  are  getting  very  anxious 
about  you,  sir.  Mr.  Alton's  been  here  half  a 
dozen  times. " 

"Has  it  failed?" 

"No  sir,  it's  all  right  yet.  They  think 
tomorrow 

"Very  well,  go." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THE  PLEA  OF  THE   BROKEN 

IT  was  with  the  utmost  reluctance  that  Judson 
left  the  apartment,  but  in  the  face  of  his  master's 
repeated  and  even  angry  commands  he  had  no 
option.  He  loved  Neyland  in  spite  of  his  weak- 
ness, perhaps  because  of  it.  Never  before  had  he 
been  driven  from  him  when  he  came  home  in  such 
a  condition.  Always  his  ministrations — and  he 
knew  exactly  what  to  do  for  him — had  been  not  only 
suffered  but  anxiously  demanded.  There  had  been 
something  so  terribly  different  about  Neyland's  de- 
meanour in  this  instance  that  he  was  now  alarmed 
beyond  measure.  He  went  down  into  the  street 
and  stood  hesitating,  the  more  frightened  because 
he  had  heard  Neyland  shoot  the  bolt  of  the  dead- 
latch  of  the  door  behind  him  so  that  Judson  could 
not  readmit  himself  with  his  key  if  he  dared  to 
try  it. 

Alton,  as  representative  of  the  syndicate,  had 
called  in  person  every  day  and  he  and  others  had 
telephoned  nearly  every  hour.  There  was  some- 
thing very  serious  the  matter,  evidently.  Although 
Judson  possessed  a  great  deal  of  his  master's 

339 


34°         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

confidence,  which  was  always  respected,  he  was 
only  a  valet  after  all  and  he  felt  quite  unequal 
to  the  situation.  He  must  get  assistance.  Alton, 
of  course,  occurred  to  him  but  for  some  strange 
reason  he  did  not  feel  like  appealing  to  him. 
There  had  been  an  estrangement  of  late  between 
his  master  and  Colonel  Tayloe,  but  the  valet 
remembered  that  the  old  Colonel  had  formerly 
been  Neyland's  best  friend.  He  would  go  to  him 
and  ask  his  advice. 

Judson  hailed  a  passing  taxicab  and  directed  the 
driver  to  hurry  to  Mr.  Warburton's  house  where  he 
knew  Colonel  Tayloe  was  living  and  where,  as  it 
was  now  past  business  hours,  he  fancied  the  Colonel 
might  be  found,  especially  since  the  old  man  among 
other  pleasant  pursuits  usually  enjoyed  a  canter  in 
the  park  in  the  late  afternoon.  He  was  fortunate 
enough  to  intercept  the  Colonel  just  as  he  was  about 
to  mount  his  horse  before  the  door  of  the  house. 

Colonel  Tayloe  was  in  high  spirits.  The  great 
battle  on  the  stock  exchange  was  progressing 
favourably.  He  alone  knew  that  Warburton 
would  win.  The  little  Italian  Duke  had  returned 
that  morning  bringing  back  his  beloved  Duchess, 
the  Colonel's  only  daughter.  Rose  stood  in  the 
doorway  watching  her  father.  There  was  a  second 
horse  before  the  door.  At  that  instant  the  little 
Duke  appeared  in  the  doorway,  paused  on  the 
threshold,  kissed  her,  and  then  descended  to  the 
Colonel  on  the  sidewalk.  By  his  dress  he  was  also 
minded  for  a  ride. 


The  Plea  of  the  Broken         341 

In  his  excitement  Judson  flung  himself  out  of 
the  taxicab  before  it  was  fairly  stopped  and  rushed 
unceremoniously  up  to  the  old  man. 

"You  are  Colonel  Tayloe,  sir,"  burst  out  the 
excited  man  impulsively.  "I've  often  seen  you 
with  my  master. " 

"Well,  as  I  live,  it's  Neyland's  man!"  exclaimed 
the  Colonel  looking  at  him  narrowly. 

"Yes  sir,  I'm  Judson,  sir,"  returned  the  per- 
fectly trained  Englishman,  striving  to  recover  some 
of  his  composure  and  to  speak  normally. 

Rose  came  down  the  steps,  having  heard  what 
had  been  said,  and  stopped  by  her  father's  side. 
The  Duke  drew  nearer,  having  first  thoughtfully 
bidden  the  grooms  lead  the  horses  across  the 
street.  The  newcomer's  bearing  indicated  some- 
thing serious. 

"I  came  to  you  for  help,  sir.  Perhaps  I  had 
better  speak  to  you  in  private. " 

"This  is  my  son-in-law  and  this  my  daughter. 
They  have  both  been  very  fond  of  Mr.  Neyland. 
Is  anything  the  matter  with  him?" 

"Yes  sir,  that  is  to  say — er " 

The  man  was  reluctant  indeed  to  discuss  his 
master's  shame. 

"Good  God!"  said  the  Colonel,  "has  he  been  on 
another  debauch?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Poor  Chrissey, "  murmured  the  old  man. 

"Well,"  began  the  Duke,  "how  does  that 
concern " 


342         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"It's  this  way,  sir,"  said  Judson,  "he  came 
home  in  an  awful  state  and  he  wouldn't  let  me  do 
anything  for  him.  He  drove  me  out  of  the  apart- 
ment and  locked  the  door  behind  him.  I'm 
afraid." 

"Afraid  of  what?"  asked  the  Colonel  staring 
at  the  man. 

"He  might  do  himself  some  harm,  sir.  The 
fact  is  he  sent  a  telegram  to  Nevada  last  Tuesday 
and  he  waited  all  day  for  an  answer  and  it  didn't 
come  and  then,  while  I  was  out,  he  went  away  and 
he  just  came  back  in  a  horrible  state,  sir.  The 
first  thing  he  asked  for  was  a  telegram. " 

"Was  there  any?"  asked  the  Colonel. 

"No,  sir,  only  a  letter.  He  gets  all  his  business 
mail  at  the  office.  Only  letters  from  Nevada 
come  to  the  house. " 

"I  see,  and  was  this " 

"Yes,  sir.  I  gave  him  a  bracer  and  I  left  him 
but  I'm  afraid,  sir.  He's  worse  than  I  ever  saw 
him,  sir,  and  somehow  different." 

"It's  no  concern  of  mine,"  said  the  Colonel 
grimly,  "and  he's  fighting  my  best  friend. " 

"I  know,  sir,  but  if  you  could  see  him  now, 
Colonel  Tayloe.  He  has  been  a  good  master  to 
me,  and  I'm  afraid." 

"Father,"  said  Rose,  "you  will  go  instantly  to 
Mr.  Neyland's  rooms  and  if  you  won't  go  Enrico 
shall. " 

"But  it  is  a  most  delicate  matter,  my  dear 
Rose,  "  protested  the  Duke. 


The  Plea  of  the  Broken          343 

"I  see  it  all, "  said  the  new  Duchess;  "you  told 
me  Chris  got  her  divorce. " 

"Yes,  last  Monday." 

"He  expected  her  to  wire  him  and  she  didn't  do 
it  and  he  couldn't  stand  it. " 

"There's  something  in  that.  " 

"Perhaps  she  has  seen  what  a  poor  wretched 
man  he  is  and  she  doesn't  care  for  him.  And  oh, 
don't  you  see  he  drank  because  his  heart  was 
broken  and  now " 

"The  Duchess  is  right,"  said  the  little  Duke, 
"as  always.  You  are  in  an  alliance  with  Mr. 
Warburton,  my  dear  sir.  Naturally  you  hesitate, 
but  I  will  go." 

"Oh,  thank  you  sir,  thank  you,"  cried  the 
valet.  "You  are  so  kind.  I  have  a  taxicab 
right  here." 

A  messenger  boy  on  a  bicycle  drew  up  before  the 
sidewalk  where  the  three  men  stood  talking. 

"Telegram  for  Colonel  Tayloe, "  he  said. 

"Why  didn't  you  telephone  it?"  he  said. 

"It  was  addressed  to  your  office,  sir.  They 
couldn't  get  you  there,  so  they  telephoned  it  to 
our  Madison  Avenue  office  and  sent  me  around, 
sir." 

"Just  a  moment,"  said  the  Colonel  putting  on 
his  glasses.  ' '  You  sign  for  it,  Duke, ' '  he  continued 
as  he  thrust  his  thumb  into  the  envelope.  "Good 
heavens!"  he  exclaimed  as  he  read  the  message. 
"Chrissey  de  Selden  is  on  her  way  to  New  York. 
She  will  arrive  on  the  Lake  Shore  Limited  from 


344          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Chicago  at  five-thirty.  It  wants  fifteen  minutes 
of  that  now.  Duke,  will  you  go  to  meet  her?" 

"But  Mr.  Neyland,  sir,"  interposed  the  indomi- 
table Judson. 

"I'll  go  to  him  myself,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"after  I  change  my  clothes." 

"Don't  stop  for  anything,"  said  the  practical 
Rose,  ' '  go  just  as  you  are.  The  taxi  can  take  you 
to  Mr.  Neyland's.  I'll  have  the  car  around  in  a 
jiffy  for  Enrico.  I'd  go  myself  if  I  were  only 
dressed. " 

"God  bless  these  women!"  said  the  Colonel, 
scrambling  into  the  cab  in  his  riding  clothes. 

"Take  the  horses  to  the  stable  and  tell  the 
chauffeur  to  bring  around  the  Pierce- Arrow  imme- 
diately. Hurry,"  he  heard  his  daughter  say  to  the 
head  groom  as  the  cab  rolled  swiftly  down  the 
avenue. 

"What  do  you  think,  carina?"  asked  the  Duke, 
amused  at  her  prompt  decision  and  admiring  her 
more  than  ever. 

"I  think  if  father  doesn't  get  to  Richard  Ney- 
land he  may  kill  himself  and  I  don't  know  what 
effect  that  will  have  on  Chris.  I  can't  understand 
her.  Love  is  so  straightforward  with  you  and  me 
but  it  seems  wretchedly  tangled  with  her.  You'll 
meet  her,  Enrico.  You'll  receive  her  kindly.  Say 
nothing  about  Mr.  Neyland.  Remember  how 
miserable  she  has  been.  Tell  her  that  her  telegram 
came  late,  that  I  was  not  dressed  or  I  should  have 
come  with  you." 


The  Plea  of  the  Broken          345 

"I  obey,"  said  the  Duke,  kissing  her  hand  with 
the  fervour  of  pre-marriage  days. 

He  was  more  in  love  than  ever  with  his  beautiful 
wife  and  as  the  car  came  around  to  the  door  he 
sprang  into  it  and  drove  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE   PASSING 

As  he  shot  the  dead-bolt  in  the  door  behind  the 
departing  Judson,  Neyland  experienced  a  brief, 
transient  sensation  of  relief.  Whatever  his  plans 
he  was  now  free  to  work  them  out  without  inter- 
ruption. 

Stop!  One  connection  still  remained  between 
him  and  the  outside  world.  As  he  staggered  back 
from  his  private  hall  to  the  big  library  he  was 
conscious  of  a  ringing  sound  somewhere.  In  his 
benumbed,  confused  state  he  did  not  realize  at 
first  what  it  was  or  where  it  came  from.  He  could 
not  identify  it.  He  only  knew  that  the  sharp  clang- 
ing tore  his  already  wrecked  nerves  to  shreds.  He 
stood  trembling  and  listening,  praying  that  it  would 
stop.  Finally  it  came  to  him  that  it  was  the  tele- 
phone bell.  He  could  soon  settle  that.  He 
stumbled  over  to  it,  took  the  connecting  wire  in  his 
hands  and  jerked  it  savagely  free  from  the  box. 
The  last  tie  that  bound  him  to  the  world  without 
was  broken. 

The  bracer  that  Judson  had  made  for  him  had 
cleared  his  head  and  steadied  his  nerves  a  little. 

346 


The  Passing  347 

He  went  over  to  his  desk,  sat  down  before  it,  drew 
out  a  sheet  of  paper,  and  seized  a  pen.  It  was  a 
task  of  incredible  difficulty  for  him  to  write  legibly 
with  his  twitching  hands.  Sheet  after  sheet  he 
scrawled  and  blotted  in  vain.  What  could  he  do? 
Fortunately  there  was  still  something  left  of  the 
bracer  in  the  glass  Judson  had  given  him.  He  had 
only  drunk  about  half  of  it.  He  seized  the  glass 
avidly  and  swallowed  it  down  hard  although  his 
feeling  was  one  of  loathing.  '  It  steadied  him  a 
little  and  by  a  mighty  effort  at  concentration  and 
control  he  managed  to  write  these  few  words: 

Not  hearing  from  you  I  fell  again.  I  woke  up  in 
hell  where  I  belong.  I  have  won  from  Warburton 
but  I  have  been  beaten  in  the  greater  thing  after  all. 
Even  to  think  of  you  is  profanation  to  you.  I  know 
that  yoti  do  not  love  me.  I  could  not  live  honourably 
with  you.  I  could  not  allow  you  to  marry  the  rotten, 
degraded,  helpless  thing  I  am.  Our  children  would 
rise  up  and  curse  me.  But  in  spite  of  my  weakness 
I  love  you.  If  I  had  known  you  before  I  might 
have  been  a  different  man.  Don't  reproach  yourself. 
You  cannot  help  it.  Good-bye,  Chris,  good-bye. 

He  hesitated  a  long  time  staring  at  the  blurred 
words  that  seemed  somehow  to  run  themselves 
together.  Finally  he  lifted  the  pen  again  and 
added  these  words: 

May  God  [he  wrote  painfully  and  slowly],  if  there 
is  any  God — I  will  know  that  soon — bless  you  and 
may  He  be  not  too  hard  on  me.  I  love  you  greatly 


348          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

and  I  take  myself  out  of  your  way.     That  is  some- 
thing, isn't  it?  , 

He  folded  the  letter  crookedly,  badly,  thrust 
it  into  an  envelope,  sealed  it  after  a  fashion,  and 
scrawled  her  name  on  it.  The  effort  was  almost 
beyond  him.  He  sank  back  in  the  chair  when  he 
had  finished,  white,  ghastly,  sweat  beading  his 
brow.  But  he  could  not  rest,  not  yet.  He  still 
had  something  else  to  do.  Another  letter  had  to  be 
written.  With  even  more  deliberation  than  before 
he  wrote: 

I'm  not  worthy  of  her.  Who  can  minister  to  a 
body  and  mind  alike  diseased?  Not  she,  not  any  one. 
Everything  of  which  I  die  possessed  I  have  left  to  her. 
Colonel  Tayloe,  you  have  been  a  good  friend  to  me. 
If  any  man  could  have  helped  me  you  would  have 
done  so;  if  any  woman,  she.  It  is  no  one's  fault  but 
my  own.  Let  no  one  else  be  blamed.  Will  you  see 
that  my  wishes  are  carried  out  ?  There  ought  to  be  a 
great  deal  for  her  after  tomorrow. 

He  signed  this  letter  firmly  with  his  full  name, 
the  other  letter  had  not  been  subscribed.  She 
would  know  and  understand.  It  was  important 
that  his  signature  to  this  document  should  be 
unmistakable  and  he  forced  his  nerves  into  sub- 
mission for  the  moment.  He  slipped  the  letter  to 
her  inside  this  letter,  placed  them  both  in  a  larger 
envelope,  which  he  directed  to  Colonel  Tayloe. 
He  arose,  staggered  over  to  the  mantel,  and  with 


The  Passing  349 

trembling  hands  placed  the  letter  on  the  shelf 
where  it  could  not  fail  to  be  seen  by  any  one  enter- 
ing the  room. 

Turning  back  from  a  drawer  of  the  desk  he  took 
a  small,  heavy  automatic  pistol,  which  he  slowly 
made  ready  to  fire.  Carrying  it  in  his  right  hand 
he  went  over  to  the  table.  There  lay  the  crum- 
pled letter  from  Chrissey  de  Selden  just  as  he  had 
dropped  it  after  he  had  locked  the  door  on  the 
valet  and  had  gone  to  the  writing  desk.  He  laid 
the  automatic  down  on  the  table,  picked  up  the  let- 
ter, smoothed  it  out,  and  with  shaking  hands  started 
to  tear  the  envelope.  He  would  go  on  his  last 
journey  with  her  last  message,  with  words  from 
her,  before  his  eyes  and  in  his  heart. 

With  the  envelope  half -torn  open  he  stopped  and 
withdrew  his  finger.  He  was  not  worthy  of  any 
word  from  her.  He  would  not  look.  If  she  loved 
him  it  would  only  make  his  task  harder.  If  she  did 
not  he  would  rather  not  know.  And  by  his  re- 
straint he  could  punish  himself  a  little  more.  He 
would  not  look.  No  one,  not  even  she,  would 
ever  know  how  much  that  decision  cost  him. 

He  had  fought,  he  had  triumphed,  he  had  failed. 
In  that  in  which  he  had  triumphed  he  found 
neither  condonation  nor  compensation  for  that  in 
which  he  had  failed.  He  did  not  know  what  the 
future  would  hold  for  him  but  he  knew  that  no  hell 
could  be  worse  than  that  in  which  he  now  lin- 
gered. Holding  the  letter  in  his  hand  for  a  moment 
he  pressed  it  to  his  lips  and  strove  to  think  only  of 


35°         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

her,  but  athwart  his  vision  of  her  came  the  picture 
of  that  nameless  woman  in  the  mean  room  whence 
he  had  just  come.  He  had  been  associated  with 
many  women  but  somehow  none  of  them  came  to 
him  as  this  unknown  outcast  of  the  street.  That 
was  the  horror  of  this  ending.  She  would  not 
down,  -this  unnamed  woman. 

He  groaned  aloud.  He  was  not  to  be  permitted 
a  last  thought  only  of  her  he  loved.  No,  it  was  not 
meet  that  he  should  read  her  words.  No,  it  was  not 
right  that  he  should  even  hold  the  letter.  He  made 
a  movement  to  unclasp  his  fingers  but  that  was  too 
much.  He  transferred  it  to  his  left  hand,  the 
heart  hand,  and  clutched  it  desperately.  With 
his  other  hand  he  seized  the  weapon. 

Should  he  sit  down  ?  He  decided  to  stand.  He 
faced  the  mantel.  Her  picture  was  there.  He 
would  not  look  at  it.  He  closed  his  eyes.  The 
fingers  of  his  right  hand  tightened  on  the  automatic. 
There  was  death  and  whatever  might  be  beyond  in 
that  hand.  He  lifted  both  hands,  the  left  with 
love  and  life  above  his  head  as  if  in  appeal,  the 
other  breast  high 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

BRAVE  MAN  OR  COWARD? 

THE  door-bell  of  the  apartment  rang  insistently. 
The  Colonel  and  the  valet  stood  without. 

"Try  the  knob  again,"  said  the  Colonel. 

"It's  no  use,  sir,"  answered  Judson.  "My  key 
won't  unlock  the  dead-latch.  I  heard  him  shoot  it 
behind  me.  See,  sir." 

He  twisted  the  knob  and  even  shook  the  door 
violently.  It  did  not  yield.  The  Colonel  reached 
his  hand  out  the  second  time  and  pressed  the 
bell. 

Is  there  a  difference  between  the  sound  of  a  bell 
ringing  in  rooms  that  are  unoccupied  and  the 
sound  it  makes  where  life  is  present? 

"Maybe  he's  in  another  stupor,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"No,"  said  the  valet,  his  face  white.  The 
man  wrung  his  hands.  "Oh,  sir,  let  me  break 
down  the  door." 

"Very  well."  Judson  had  been  a  soldier.  He 
still  was  young  and  vigorous.  The  Colonel  looked 
at  him  closely.  "I  believe  you  can  manage  it," 
said  the  old  officer. 

35i 


352         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Yes,  sir,  I'm  sure  I  can.  Please  stand  aside, 
sir." 

The  door  was  at  the  end  of  a  hall.  Judson 
backed  away  as  far  from  it  as  he  could,  then  ran 
swiftly  and  hurled  himself  against  it.  The  panels 
gave,  the  bolt  slipped,  the  door  crashed  open,  and 
Judson  fell  headlong  into  the  private  foyer.  Colo- 
nel Tayloe  stepped  over  him,  ran  forward  into 
the  library,  and  stopped. 

Surely  the  noise  of  the  forcing  of  the  door  would 
have  awakened  any  one  but  a  dead  man,  but  no 
earthly  sound  could  awaken  Richard  Neyland.  He 
lay  on  his  back  at  full  length  in  front  of  the  mantel. 
The  automatic  rested  on  the  floor  hard  by  his  right 
hand.  His  left  hand  was  still  tightly  clenched. 

The  Colonel  had  seen  death  too  many  times  not 
to  recognize  it,  even  though  Neyland' s  coat  had 
fallen  so  that  it  concealed  the  gaping  wound  over 
his_heart.  Neyland 's  eyes  were  wide  open.  They 
seemed  not  yet  to  have  set  in  the  ghastly  stare  of 
dissolution.  There  was  a  little  smile  upon  his 
lips,  a  smile  of  pride,  of  resolve,  of  anxiety,  of 
shame,  of  despair.  In  the  face  of  the  tempest- 
tossed  was  a  great  calm. 

The  Colonel  took  off  his  hat.  It  was  Judson 
who  broke  the  silence. 

"Oh  God!"  he  wailed,  "he's  done  it.  I  feared 
it." 

He  knelt  down  by  the  side  of  the  dead  and  bowed 
his  head  over  his  master.  Tears  that  were  not 
unmanly  fell  upon  that  master's  breast. 


Brave  Man  or  Coward?          353 

So  Richard  Neyland  passed.  Dead  by  his  own 
hand!  Brave  man  or  coward?  It  was  over,  over. 
Triumph  and  defeat,  temptation  and  resistance, 
love  and  despair — no  more. 

We  are  the  makers  of  our  own  fate,  the  engineers 
of  our  own  design,  the  shapers  of  our  own  end. 
Ah,  but  is  that  true?  How  many  generations  of 
men  who  drank  and  of  women,  too,  had  gone  to 
debase  the  ichor  that  filled  this  man's  veins  and 
that  made  him  weak?  He  had  fought  hard  and 
he  had  loved  much.  In  the  end  he  had  failed, 
but  as  he  lay  there  dead  it  seemed  to  the  Colonel 
that  perhaps  he  had  made  some  sort  of  atonement. 
Was  it  because  of  that  he  looked  so  whitely 
peaceful? 

The  old  man  stooped  down  and  unclasped  that 
left  hand.  Neyland  had  had  no  lasting  grip  on 
death  with  the  right  hand.  Coincident  with  pur- 
pose served  he  had  as  he  fell  cast  the  weapon  from 
him,  and  there  it  lay,  its  work  accomplished,  re- 
jected— like  Neyland  himself  perhaps.  But  he 
had  clung  to  love  and  life  with  the  other  hand. 
Not  even  in  the  articles  of  death  had  he  let  go 
of  all  that  had  been  left  him  of  her.  Death  had 
mastered  him  but  love  had  triumphed.  And  was 
it  for  that  he  seemed  so  calmly  at  rest? 

The  Colonel  took  the  crumpled  letter,  smoothed 
it  out,  looked  at  it,  observing  that  Neyland  had 
faltered  and  stopped  in  his  purpose  to  open  it  and 
to  read  it,  and  then  he  thrust  it  into  the  pocket 
of  his  coat.  The  handwriting  was  familiar. 
23 


354          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

He  recognized  it  instantly.  Judson,  too,  had 
risen. 

"Steady,  man,  steady,"  said  the  Colonel,  laying 
his  hand  on  the  other's  shoulder. 

Judson,  striving  to  control  his  agitation,  caught 
sight  of  the  letter  on  the  mantel. 

"This  is  for  you,  sir,"  he  said  after  a  glance  at 
the  envelope. 

The  Colonel  looked  at  it,  read  the  address,  and 
put  it  in  his  pocket  with  the  other  letter. 

"You  will  say  nothing  about  these  letters,  Jud- 
son, until  I  give  you  leave." 

"No,  sir,  of  course  not." 

And  the  next  moment  the  room  was  filled  with 
people.  The  servants  of  the  house  had  heard  the 
crash  of  the  forced  door.  Some  of  them  had 
previously  heard  a  muffled  sound  like  a  shot 
although  they  had  given  it  no  attention  until  the 
elevator  boy,  passing  up  and  down,  reported  that 
the  apartment  had  been  broken  into  and  the  door 
was  open.  Thereupon  the  hall  man  had  sum- 
moned a  policeman.  An  ubiquitous  reporter,  who 
happened  to  be  passing  by,  had  also  dropped  in. 

Owing  to  a  freight  wreck  on  the  road  the  limited 
train  was  two  hours  late.  The  Colonel  had  tele- 
phoned to  Rose  the  dreadful  tidings  and  when  the 
Duke  had  telephoned  that  he  would  wait  for  the 
delayed  train  she  had  told  him  and  had  said  that 
she  would  join  her  husband  and  they  would  meet 
the  train  together. 

It  was  a  beautiful,  if  unhappy,  woman  they 


Brave  Man  or  Coward?          355 

welcomed  as  she  stepped  down  to  the  platform  in 
the  Grand  Central  Station.  Chrissey  de  Selden's 
health  had  been  fully  restored,  but  there  was  an 
anxiety  in  her  voice  and  bearing  which  was  patent 
to  her  friends.  They  greeted  her  warmly  and 
although  it  was  but  a  short  distance  to  the  Biltmore 
they  took  her  there  in  the  car.  As  they  were 
about  to  enter  the  door  a  newsboy  thrust  in  her 
face  a  late  edition. 

"Extree!"  he  shouted.     "All  about  the  suicid^ 
of  Richard  Neyland  of  the  great  anti-Warburton 
combination." 

The  Duke  caught  her  by  the  arm. 

"Dear  lady,"  he  said  quickly,  "not  here." 

He  thought  she  was  going  to  faint  in  the  entrance. 
It  was  fortunate  that  Rose  had  come  along.  The 
Duke  had  already  reserved  her  suite  of  rooms. 
She  was  heavily  veiled  and  they  managed  to  get 
her  to  her  apartment  without  attracting  attention. 
When  the  door  closed  and  they  were  alone  she 
confronted  them.  She  threw  back  her  veil  and 
stared  at  them,  her  face  horribly  drawn. 

"Is  it  true?"  she  asked. 

The  Duke  nodded. 

"Dear  lady,  unfortunately,  yes." 

Chrissey  de  Selden  shuddered  as  Rose  stepped 
closer  to  her  side  and  put  her  arm  about  her. 

"  I  did  it, "  she  said.     "  I  killed  him. " 


BOOK  VII 
THE  MORE  EXCELLENT  WAY 


357 


THE    PRICE    FOR    FOLLY 

FOR  the  divisions  of  Chrissey  there  were  great 
searchings  of  heart.  Her  pursuit  of  happiness  had 
led  her,  as  such  quests  often  do,  to  a  hideous  im- 
passe. She  found  herself  fettered  by  circumstances, 
bound  by  conditions,  which  she  conceived  herself 
powerless  to  alter  in  the  least  degree.  Her  career 
had  been  marked  by  a  pitiful  indecision,  by  a 
complete  failure  to  comprehend  the  situation,  by 
a  blind  inability  to  discern  her  own  heart,  and  a 
want  of  power  to  see  where  her  true  happiness 
did  lie. 

Neyland's  death  had  been  a  horrible  shock  to 
her,  especially  as  she  had  not  spoken  lightly  or 
unadvisedly  when  she  said  that  she  had  killed 
him.  Reflection  had  intensified  her  in  that 
appalling  conviction.  She  would  have  given  her 
life  if  she  could  have  restored  him  to  life,  but  she 
was  clear-headed  enough,  even  in  her  passionate 
remorse,  her  ruthless  self-accusation,  to  realize 
that  she  never  could  have  married  him.  No,  not 
even  to  save  his  life,  she  had  almost  said  his  soul, 
could  she  have  brought  herself  to  that ! 

359 


360         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Her  grief  was  founded  on  the  fact  that  she  had 
not  realized  that  before.  She  had  been  blind. 
Once  her  eyes  were  opened,  she  had  seen  clearly 
that  she  could  not  have  gone  through  with  that 
marriage.  The  very  fact  that  she  had  already 
gone  through  one  loveless  marriage  made  it  impos- 
sible to  give  herself  to  Neyland. 

Therefore,  in  all  her  humiliation  and  reproach 
and  contrition,  which  were  genuine  and  abiding 
and  which  would  probably  never  leave  her  alto- 
gether, she  never  for  one  moment  allowed  her- 
self to  admit  that  she  would  have  prevented 
the  catastrophe  by  marrying  him.  Nor  could 
she  delude  herself  by  arguing  that  she  could 
have  averted  this  deplorable  ending  of  all  his 
hopes  and  struggles.  His  recent  letters  showed 
that. 

There  is  no  illuminant  like  a  great  passion  and 
this  in  spite  of  the  proverb  about  the  blinding 
power  of  love.  She  frankly  admitted  m  now  that 
she  loved  the  man  who  had  been  her  husband. 
That  she  had  irrevocably  put  him  away  intensified 
the  depth  of  feeling  with  which  she  longed  to  give 
herself  to  him.  And  in  the  light  of  that  great 
passion  which  in  defiance  alike  of  every  law  of 
growth,  every  theory  of  possibility,  or  every  fact 
of  experience,  had  suddenly  flamed  up  in  her  heart 
she  realized  what  she  had  meant  to  Neyland. 
Nothing  but  her  whole  heart  would  have  sufficed 
him.  Her  mere  bodily  presence  without  that  would 
have  made  the  failure  to  maintain  his  moral 


The  Price  for  Folly  361 

standards  the  more  inevitable  and  agonizing  to 
them  both. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  in  order  to  be  true  to  her 
ideas  and  ideals  Neyland  had  to  be  sacrificed. 
Yet  her  sorrow  for  Neyland  was  profound.  And 
the  more  she  dwelt  upon  his  ending,  the  more 
grievously  it  affected  her.  She  set  these  things 
clearly  before  her  and  looked  them  sadly  but 
bravely  in  the  face. 

Perhaps  after  all  there  is  a  sense  in  which  love 
blinds.  It  blinded  Chrissey  de  Selden  to  the 
state  of  Warburton's  heart.  It  did  not  occur 
to  her  for  a  single  moment  that  he  could  still  love 
her.  He  ought  not  to  love  her.  She  looked  upon 
herself  as  a  bad  woman  deserving  of  punishment. 
Oh,  not  guilty  of  the  greater  sins  of  commission, 
but  of  lesser  faults,  bad  enough.  Nor  could  she 
escape  from  the  conclusion  that  everything  that 
had  happened  had  been  more  her  own  fault  than 
that  of  any  other.  The  best  that  she  could  say  for 
herself  was  that  she  had  been  a  fool. 

Sometimes  the  price  for  folly  is  higher  than  for 
sin.  The  sinner  usually  gets  some  sort  of  an 
exchange;  the  fool,  nothing.  She  heaped  ashes 
and  dust  upon  her  head.  In  that  condition  she 
asked  nothing.  She  could  not  ask.  She  had 
forfeited  any  right  to  appeal.  She  expected 
nothing.  She  hoped  nothing.  What  could  she 
expect  ?  What  could  she  hope  ?  Her  punishment 
appeared  greater  than  she  could  bear,  yet  she  had 
to  bear  it. 


362          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

She  approached  the  matter  again  and  again 
from  every  angle.  But  for  her  love  for  Warburton 
she  would  have  said  she  was  a  Frankenstein,  a 
woman  without  a  soul,  without  a  heart.  She  was 
frightened  not  only  because  she  could  not  mourn 
for  Neyland  but  because  she  was  actually  re- 
lieved at  his  death.  She  could  not  escape  the 
consciousness  that  the  problem  he  presented  had 
been  solved  by  that  pistol  shot. 

As  she  saw  herself  mercilessly  so  she  saw  Ney- 
land. She  realized  his  weakness.  Although  she 
was  fain  not  to  dwell  upon  it  there  was  a  certain 
fascination  in  so  doing  because  that  weakness 
justified  her  action.  She  sought  earnestly  to  think 
upon  his  good  qualities  but  other  things  would 
obtrude.  De  mortuis  nil  nisi — malum!  And  for 
that  there  were  bitter  reproach  and  shame ! 

Believing  herself  in  love  with  him  she  had  con- 
doned that  insult  at  Sorrento  but  she  had  not  for- 
got it.  Again  it  bulked  large  and  hateful  in  her 
thoughts.  It  seemed  to  her  that  Neyland  had 
somehow  branded  her  and  that  she  was  still  his 
possession  because  of  that.  She  had  thrown 
his  bracelet  away.  She  had  burned  his  letters. 
But  that  was  the  one  thing  that  would  not  be 
obliterated.  Sometimes,  as  she  thought  on  it  she 
found  herself  tearing  her  dress  open  to  see  if  there 
were  any  outward  mark.  And  sometimes  to  her 
distraught  fancy  the  red  branding  hand  seemed 
outlined  on  her  white  flesh. 

She  had  sought  to  put  everything  of  Neyland 's 


The  Price  for  Folly  363 

out  of  her  life.  There  was  one  thing,  however, 
that  still  remained.  A  few  months  before  he  had 
sent  her  an  envelope  not  to  be  opened  until  he 
should  die  although  he  had  no  expectation  of  death 
then.  She  remembered  the  letter  which  had 
brought  the  sealed  packet  to  her  and  how  full  of  the 
joy  of  life  and  hope  and  courage  it  had  been. 
After  Neyland's  funeral  she  had  opened  that 
envelope. 

It  contained  his  will.  He  had  left  all  he  had  to 
her.  His  letters  had  convinced  her  that  his  oper- 
ations on  the  stock  exchange,  which  she  yet  had  not 
the  faintest  idea  had  turned  out  unsuccessfully,  had 
materially  increased  his  fortune.  Of  course,  as 
she  had  put  her  whole  means  at  his  disposal  she  too 
had  shared  in  the  profits.  She  had  not  the  faint- 
est idea  that  the  combination  had  failed  and  that 
Neyland  and  Alton  and  their  backers  had  not  only 
been  beaten  but  ruined.  She  did  not  dream  that 
her  fortune  had  been  entirely  swept  away. 

The  newspapers  the  next  afternoon  had  been  full 
of  the  collapse  of  the  combination,  the  triumph  of 
Warburton.  She  had  read  nothing.  Life  had 
held  but  one  interest  to  her  in  those  hours — the 
death  of  Neyland.  She  never  doubted  but  that  he 
had  won  and  that  she  was  richer  than  ever  before. 
The  assurance  of  success  had  been  too  thorough 
for  her  to  dream  of  anything  else. 

There  were  two  decisions  to  which  she  had  come. 
First  she  would  accept  none  of  Neyland's  money, 
not  one  dollar  of  it.  Second,  her  share  of  the 


364         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

profits  of  the  big  deal  she  would  make  over  to 
Warburton,  whom  she  thought  ruined,  without 
resources.  Neyland  had  said  that  she  ought  to 
double  her  fortune,  so  that  with  so  large  an 
amount  a  man  like  Warburton  could  soon  recoup 
himself. 

'She  could  not  go  to  Ney land's  funeral.  There 
had  been  publicity  enough.  Her  name  had  not 
been  coupled  with  Neyland's  suicide,  which  was 
universally  ascribed  to  nervous  depression  follow- 
ing his  last  debauch,  brought  about  by  the  excite- 
ment of  his  deal  in  the  stock  exchange.  But  society 
had  expected  a  marriage  between  the  two  since 
her  divorce  and  much  unpleasant  comment,  which 
was  already  current,  would  have  been  more  difficult 
to  bear  if  her  whereabouts  had  become  known. 

She  had  sent  for  no  newspapers.  The  fact  that 
he  was  dead,  the  manner  of  his  death,  had  been 
enough  for  her.  She  was  in  no  mood  to  read.  The 
course  of  the  world  did  not  interest  her  then. 
Neyland  was  dead ;  she  was  separated  for  ever  from 
Warburton.  Nothing  else  mattered. 

Not  until  long  after  did  she  learn  anything  of 
that  great  day.  Alton's  backers  came  out  into  the 
open  and  despite  the  defection  of  Neyland  fought 
boldly.  Old  Huntley  refused  to  turn  over  his  stock. 
The  conspirators,  met  by  a  demand  for  actual 
stock,  sought  secretly  and  vainly  with  the  three  mil- 
lions from  escrow  and  the  last  of  their  resources  to 
buy  enough  stock  to  make  good  their  sales.  They 
were  caught  in  the  trap.  Warburton  himself  came 


The  Price  for  Folly  365 

on  the  floor  of  the  exchange  just  before  closing, 
and  amid  a  pandemonium  of  mad  excitement  drove 
them  to  the  wall,  while  surging  masses  of  men, 
shrieking  like  demoniacs,  surrounded  the  battlers 
on  this  day  of  unparalleled  triumph  and  disaster. 
The  world  of  finance  never  would  forget  Warburton, 
cool,  imperturbable,  buying,  buying  with  damn- 
able persistence,  with  unconquerable  determin- 
ation, while  about  him  raged  the  unleashed  storm 
of  human  passions  on  that  eventful  morning. 

In  those  last  mad  moments  the  conspirators  lost 
everything.  The  price  of  the  I-O  stock  went  sky- 
rocketing. At  the  close  of  the  exchange  it  stood 
at  five  hundred  dollars  per  share !  Warburton  had 
won.  Everybody  heard  the  public  announcement 
which  usually  follows  such  battles,  that  the  firm  of 
Alton  &  Neyland,  being  unable  to  meet  its  obliga- 
tions, must  go  into  liquidation.  In  those  last  hours 
Warburton  had  doubled  his  fortune  and  more. 
His  enemies  had  failed  to  wrest  the  road  from  him. 
They  had  failed  to  break  him  in  fortune  though 
they  had  ruined  themselves  in  the  attempt,  and  one 
of  them  at  least  had  sacrificed  the  fortune  of  the 
woman  he  loyed  and  thrown  his  own  life  into  the 
maelstrom. 

The  happiest  man  was  old  farmer  Huntley,  whose 
prudence  and  sagacity  and  judgment  were  so 
abundantly  justified  by  the  event  in  the  eyes  of 
his  fellow  townsmen.  Warburton  could  not  take 
much  comfort  in  his  success  because  the  only 
thing  that  made  success  worth  anything  to  him 


366          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

had  just  passed  out  of  his  reach  for  ever.  As  he 
thought  it  over  he  wondered  if  it  had  been  worth 
while,  if  he  would  not  have  been  happier  if  he  had 
let  the  others  win  and  had  gone  out  into  the  world 
beggared  of  fortune  as  he  was  beggared  of  wife. 
Strictly  incognito  in  her  apartments  at  the  Bilt- 
more,  visited  at  first  only  by  her  good  friend 
the  Duchess,  who  had  been  charged  by  her  father 
to  tell  her  nothing,  she  knew  nothing.  The  wild 
excitement  of  that  short  day  following  the  suicide 
passed  her  by  quite  unheeding. 

The  suicide  of  Neyland  on  the  eve  of  the  decid- 
ing moment  after  an  absence  of  four  days  might 
alone  have  wrought  the  ruin  of  the  combination. 
Indeed  to  the  uninformed  it  seemed  to  be  the  cause 
of  the  failure.  But  the  big  men  knew  differently. 
At  the  end  of  the  day,  ruined,  bankrupt,  desperate, 
many  of  them,  and  shaken  and  bruised  all  of  them, 
they  were  forced  to  confess  that  Warburton  had 
beaten  them  at  their  own  game  and  that  without 
regard  to  the  suicide.  He  would  not  have  lost 
though  a  thousand  Neylands  had  been  present. 

The  world  looked  on  in  a  state  of  mingled  admir- 
ation and  terror  at  this  struggle  of  Titans.  For 
love  of  a  woman,  for  hate  of  a  man,  to  wreak  a 
revenge,  Neyland  had  brought  hundreds  to  ruin, 
nay,  even  thousands,  for  in  the  general  crash  that 
went  with  the  battle,  remote  and  subsidiary  inter- 
ests extending  in  outreaching  ramifications  through 
the  whole  country  were  involved.  Indeed  it  was 
Warburton  himself  who,  having  ground  his  major 


The  Price  for  Folly  367 

enemies  to  powder,  eventually  stopped  the  "bear" 
panic  and  enabled  small  "bears"  at  least  to  save 
themselves.  Warburton's  endeavour  had  al- 
ways been  constructive  rather  than  destructive 
and  as  usual,  having  gained  the  victory,  he  had 
used  it  mercifully. 

His  wife's  fortune  had  been  so  involved  in  the 
deal  that  with  the  best  will  in  the  world  Warbur- 
ton  had  been  unable  to  protect  it.  Neyland's, 
of  course,  had  disappeared.  Instead  of  inheriting 
any  considerable  sum  from  him,  instead  of  having 
doubled  her  own  holdings,  she  was  a  ruined  woman 
and  but  for  the  money  upon  her  person,  her  jewels, 
and  her  private  belongings  she  was  without  re- 
source. And  again  of  that  she  was  in  happy  ignor- 
ance. It  was  Warburton's  intention  to  restore 
her  fortune  to  her  and  to  that  end  he  and  Colonel 
Tayloe  consulted  long  and  planned  variously. 

Inevitably  the  duty  of  informing  Chrissey  de 
Selden  of  that  determination  or  the  bringing  it 
about  without  her  knowledge  if  possible  had 
devolved  upon  Colonel  Tayloe.  He  had  not  seen 
her  since  the  suicide.  His  presence  had  been 
necessary  in  the  battle  on  the  stock  exchange  and 
the  next  day,  Sunday,  the  funeral  arrangements  of 
Neyland  had  also  devolved  upon  him.  Billy 
Alton,  who  had  also  lost  everything,  was  incap- 
able of  rendering  any  assistance.  Less  far-sighted 
than  others  he  had  been  inclined  to  put  much 
blame  upon  the  shoulders'  of  the  dead  man  and  his 
habits.  It  never  occurred  to  Billy  to  wonder  how 


368         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

much  he  and  others  like  him  had  been  responsible 
for  the  developing  of  such  habits  in  Neyland. 

Colonel  Tayloe  had  arranged  through  Rose  to 
see  Chrissey  de  Selden  on  Monday  afternoon,  the 
day  after  the  funeral.  Rose  had  been  Chrissey's 
only  support.  When  the  latter  would  talk  Rose 
had  talked  and  only  of  what  Chrissey  wished  to 
talk.  When  she  would  sit  silent  Rose  had  fallen  in 
with  her  mood.  She  had  shown  herself  that  rare 
thing,  a  perfect  friend.  The  little  Duke  was  tact 
and  discretion  itself.  The  impetuous  and  enthusi- 
astic Rose  had  not  failed  to  learn  something  from 
her  devoted  husband  in  the  short  period  of  married 
life.  Indeed  her  course  had  largely  been  dictated 
by  that  flower  of  modern  chivalry  that  had  blos- 
somed upon  the  still  fructifying  soil  of  that  ancient 
Italian  nobility. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

ANOTHER  CHANCE 

"  MY  dear  girl, "  began  the  Colonel,  "  I'm  sick  at 
heart  over  the  present  situation.  I  know  what 
the  death  of  poor  Richard  Neyland  must  have 
been  to  you.  Just  as  you  had  secured  your 
divorce  and  were  about  to  marry  him " 

"Colonel  Tayloe,"  said  Chrissey,  interrupting 
him  swiftly,  "I  intend  to  talk  freely  with  you. 
You  will  respect  my  confidence?" 

"Absolutely." 

"I  was  not  going  to  marry  Richard  Neyland." 

"What?" 

"No." 

"I  thought " 

"Yes  and  I  thought  and  he  thought  and  we  all 
thought,  but  we  all  thought  wrong,  I  more  than 
any  one.  Ever  since  that  day  in  Sorrento  I've 
been  in  a  whirl  of  excitement.  Until  I  went  to 
Nevada  I  didn't  take  time  to  draw  a  quiet  breath. 
One  thing  succeeded  another.  I  was  swept,  as  it 
were,  by  a  mighty  current.  But  out  there  in  the 
mountains,  alone,  quiet,  I  saw  things  differently." 

"You  mean?" 

24  369 


37°          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"I  found  I  didn't  love  Mr.  Neyland."  The 
Colonel  stared  in  astonishment  as  she  went 
on.  "You  will  think  me  weak  and  vacillating. 
You  will  despise  me." 

"Despise  a  woman  for  not  knowing  her  own 
heart?" 

L  "That  is  good  of  you.  I  didn't  know  it.  I 
think  the  man  somehow  fascinated  me  until  I 
realized  his  weakness.  I  knew  in  my  soul  that  nofe 
even  with  me  could  he  conquer  it.  Perhaps  if  I 
had  believed  that  he  could  I  might  have  gone  on, 
but  his  letters,  everything,  showed  me  that  he 
could  not,  and  if  I  could  not  and  did  not  love  him 
what  was  to  be  gained  by  sacrificing  myself  to 
him?" 

"Nothing." 

"I  knew  what  the  obligations  of  a  loveless 
marriage  were,  at  least  it  was  an  unloving 
marriage  then." 

"Chrissey,"  said  the  old  Colonel,  coming  closer 
to  her  and  taking  her  by  the  shoulders  with  both 
hands.  'Look  me  in  the  face,  dear  child.  Do 
you  love  your  husband?" 

"He  isn't  my  husband,  but — I  do." 

"What!" 

"Why  should  I  hesitate  to  confess  it  to  you? 
Nothing  can  ever  come  of  it  now  but  I  know  at  last 
that  I  love  him.  I'm  not  fit  to  be  his  servant,  but 
I  love  him  just  the  same,  the  more  because  I  didn't 
realize  it  until  too  late. " 

"But  when  did  you  realize  it?" 


Another  Chance  371 

"I  didn't  let  myself  realize  it  until  I  got  my 
divorce,  but  I  know  now  that  I  began  to  love  him 
that  evening  in  Bermuda — has  he  told  you  of 
it?" 

The  Colonel  nodded. 

"When  he  would  have  killed  Mr.  Neyland  had  I 
not  prevented.  That  was  the  day  he  told  me  to 
get  the  divorce  after  what  he  had  seen  and  I  thought 
he  hated  me.  I  was  sure  he  loathed  me,  he  de- 
spised me.  He  might  well  have  done  so ,  not  because 
I  had  committed  any  but  venial  sins  in  my  heart. 
Save  for  what  has  been  visible  in  my  course,  I  am 
as  fit  to  be  a  wife  as  Rose. " 

"No  one  ever  dreamed  otherwise." 

"I  thank  you.  And  now  that  I  have  told  you 
the  truth  you  will  never  mention  it  to  a  soul,  and 
we  won't  speak  of  it  again." 

"But  my  dear  child " 

"Oh,  don't  interrupt  me.  I've  got  more  to  tell 
you  and  if  I'm  stopped  I  couldn't  gather  up  my 
thoughts  again." 

"Goon." 

"Although  I  did  not  love  him  and  although  I  had 
determined  not  to  marry  him  I  still  feel  that  I 
killed  Richard  Neyland." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  wrote  him  a  letter  in  which  I  told  him  that 
I  had  found  out  at  last  that  I  did  not  and  could 
not  love  him,  that  marriage  with  him  was  impossi- 
ble, that  even  if  I  married  him  I  could  not  conceal 
the  fact  that  I  did  not  love  him,  and  that  such  a 


372         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

knowledge  would  probably  render  it  more  difficult 
than  ever  for  him  to — you  understand. " 

"Of  course." 

"He  got  that  letter.  It  took  away  the  last  of 
his  resisting  power.  The  Duke  said  he  drank 
heavily  afterwards.  When  he  read  it  I  think  it 
drove  him  out  of  his  mind  and  when  he  came  to 
himself,  in  part  at  least,  and  realized  that  his  hopes 
were  to  be  without  fruition,  that  I  was  lost  to  him, 
that  he  had  fallen,  he  killed  himself. " 

"But,  my  dear  girl " 

"There  is  nothing  you  can  say  that  can  change 
that  conclusion." 

"Isn't  there?"  asked  the  Colonel,  grimly  feeling 
in  his  pocket  for  certain  papers  which  he  was 
suddenly  minded  not  yet  to  produce.  "Go  on." 

"I  have  suffered  greatly  ever  since  that  night 
at  Sorrento.  Through  me  Mr.  Neyland  is  dead 
and  Mr.  Warburton  is  ruined  and  I  am  alone, 
but  it  doesn't  seem  to  me  that  I  have  suffered 
enough.  I  ask  myself  how  much  I  have  believed 
in  the  goodness  of  God.  I  ask  myself  how  much 
of  my  sorrow  comes  from  the  knowledge  that  I 
have  offended  Him,  that  I  have  broken  the  laws  of 
Holy  Church,  and  how  much  of  it  comes  from  the 
fact  that  I  didn't  know  my  own  mind.  Oh,  I 
don't  know.  I  suppose  all  these  uncertainties 
and  doubts  contribute  to  my  punishment,  which 
has  indeed  seemed  more  than  I  can  bear  and  yet  I 
am  bearing  it.  We  always  say  that  and  yet  we 
bear  it,  don't  we?" 


Another  Chance  373 

•'" We  must." 

"  But  I  feel  that  I  have  not  been  punished  enough. 
Do  you  know  I  think  I've  been  a — what  do  you 
call  that  ancient  philosophy?  Oh,  I  recall  it, 
hedonism — I've  been  a  hedonist.  Pleasure  has 
been  the  end  of  action.  I  wanted  to  be  happy. 
You  see  I  was  so  young.  It  didn't  seem  fair  and  so 
I  have  defied  God  and  man  and  I  am  the  unhappi- 
est  woman  on  earth.  Mr.  Neyland  is  dead  and 
Mr.  Warburton  is  ruined  and  I  am  alone,"  she 
repeated  with  a  sort  of  desperation,  a  touching 
monotony  indeed. 

"As  for  poor  Neyland  I  cannot  say,  but  Warbur- 
ton is  the  unhappiest  man  on  earth,"  said  the 
Colonel  impulsively. 

"Does  he  take  his  ruin  so  hardly?" 

"  It's  not  that,  but  go  on. " 

"And  I  must  be  punished  more.  If  I  could 
expiate  my  weakness  on  this  earth  I  should  be  so 
glad  and  so  I  look  to  you  to  help  me.  I  am  always 
asking  someone  to  help  me,  am  I  not?"  she 
questioned  piteously. 

"You  shall  not  ask  me  in  vain,  dear  girl.  What 
is  it  that  you  wish?  But  if  I  may  offer  one  sug- 
gestion I  think  you  ought  to  go  away. " 

"  I  am  going  to  Bermuda.  You  can  advise  me  on 
all  business  matters  and  things  of  that  kind,  no  one 
better,  but  there  is  an  old  Priest  down  there,  Father 
Smith — have  you  heard  of  him  by  any  chance?" 

"Yes,  I  have  even  met  him,  when  I  was  last  in 
Bermuda,  myself." 


374          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"He  was  very  good  to  me.  He  pointed  out  the 
right  way  and  strove  to  guide  me  therein.  I  am 
going  to  him.  The  Bermudian  sails  next  Wednes- 
day. I  wish  you  to  get  me  passage  for  myself  and 
maid  and  if  it  is  not  taken  engage  'Whileaway* 
for  me  again." 

"  Humph, "  said  the  Colonel.     "  Go  on. " 

"And  here,"  continued  the  woman  producing 
the  packet,  "is  Mr.  Neyland's  will.  He  sent  it 
to  me  in  Nevada.  I  destroyed  everything  else 
connected  with  him.  I  even  threw  his  bracelet 
away,  but  I  could  not  destroy  a  paper  like  this,  so 
I  brought  it  back  intending  to  return  it.  After 
he  died  I  opened  it.  He  leaves  me  everything  of 
which  he  dies  possessed,  being  without  other  rela- 
tives and  no  friend  so  dear  as  I,  he  says. "  Her 
voice  faltered.  "I'm  ashamed  that  I  feel  only 
relief.  But  I  must  not  inflict  that  upon  you.  I 
want  everything  that  comes  to  me  by  this  will 
to  be  turned  into  money  and  all  the  profits  he  made 
from  that  great  combination  against  Mr.  Warbur- 
ton  to  be  added  to  the  sum,  every  dollar  of  it." 

"I  see." 

"He  said  that  it  would  be  more  than  doubled 
by  his  operations  if  they  succeeded.  Is  the  amount 
a  large  one?" 

"These  securities,"  said  the  Colonel  glancing 
over  the  list  quickly  and  striving  to  think  more 
clearly,  "have  a  face  value  of  over  a  million 
dollars  and  if  they  were  doubled  the  total  estate 
would  be  between  two  and  three  millions." 


Another  Chance  375 

"Yes.  Well  I'm  going  to  devote  that  to  good 
works.  I  cannot,  will  not  touch  it  myself  but  I 
can  make  somebody  happy  with  it  and  perhaps  in 
that  way  win  some  blessing  upon  his  memory. 
You  know  him,  you  know  his  family  history,  you 
know  how  he  struggled,  how  he  was  tempted ;  don't 
you  think  that  he  has  some  chance?" 

"My  dear  Chrissey,"  answered  the  Colonel 
quietly,  "as  I  am  sure  even  the  best  of  us  is  not 
good  enough  to  be  saved  on  his  own  merits  so  I 
believe  even  the  worst  of  us  is  not  bad  enough 
to  be  damned  for  his  own  sins,  no,  nor  for  those  of 
his  fathers. " 

"I  wish  I  could  believe  that." 

"You  must  believe  it.  It's  the  only  sensible 
view  to  take." 

"Perhaps.  I  hope  so  anyway.  You  will  attend 
to  this,  won't  you?  I  suppose  I'll  have  to  sign 
papers  or  something  to  give  you  the  power. " 

"That  will  be  easy." 

"And  then  there  is  my  own  fortune.  You 
remember  in  what  shape  it  was?" 

"Perfectly." 

"I  gave  it  all  to  Mr.  Neyland  to  use.  He  said 
he  .would  not  use  it  until  the  last  minute  but 
he  wrote  me  that  it  was  necessary.  In  fact,  he 
said  that  what  I  put  in  had  finally  decided  the 
battle.  And  I  presume  it  has  doubled,  too." 

"Your  logic  is  irrefutable,"  was  the  evasive 
answer. 

"I  don't  want  to  crush  Mr.  Warburton.      As  I 


376         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

see  it  now  I  would  have  been  glad  if  he  had  beaten 
the  others  but  since  he  was  beaten  I  want  him  to 
have  something  to  start  with  again. " 

"My  deargirl- 

"Yes.  I  wasn't  loyal  to  Mr.  Neyland  but  he 
thought  so  and  I  let  him  think  it.  I  forced  myself 
to  be  on  his  side." 

"  I  understand. " 

"But  what  was  really  back  of  my  action  was 
that  I  might  have  something  to  give  back.  Do 
you  think  I  could  take  any  profit  from  a  man 
I  loved  any  more  than  I  could  from  a  man  I  didn't 
love?  So  all  that  has  come  to  me  is  to  go  back 
to  Mr.  Warburton.  You  will  arrange  that  also?" 

"My  dear  Chrissey, "  exclaimed  the  Colonel, 
"do  you  know  what  you  ask?  Can  you  think  of 
any  power  on  earth  that  could  make  John  Warbur- 
ton take  such  money?" 

"I  don't  know.      I'll  have  to  leave  it  to  you." 

"But  you  can't  leave  the  impossible  to  me." 

"I  must.  I  should  like  to  give  him  everything. 
It  wouldn't  be  a  tithe  to  what  he  had  lost  through 
me." 

" My  dear, "  said  the  Colonel,  "when  he  lost  you 
he  lost  everything  that  made  life  worth  living." 

Chrissey  de  Selden's  heart  leaped  in  her  bosom. 

"It's  good  of  you  to  say  so,"  she  said,  fighting 
for  self-control,  "but  I  think  it  can't  make  much 
difference  to  him  now.  He  told  me  to  get  a 
divorce  and — 

The  Colonel  was  in  a  delicate  position.     He  was 


Another  Chance  377 

the  recipient  of  so  many  confidences  and  so  many 
aspirations  that  he  did  not  see  his  way  clear  at 
.that  moment. 

"We  will  let  that  pass,"  he  said;  "meanwhile 
what  you  ask  is  impossible.  Warburton  wouldn't 
take  the  money  from  you.  I  couldn't  persuade 
him  to  it. " 

"I  don't  want  you  to  persuade  him.  I  know 
that  he  would  have  nothing  from  me,  he  hates  me, 
but  you  must  find  some  plan  for  saving  something 
from  the  wreck.  Make  him  believe  that  some  things 
have  been  overlooked  that  he  had  forgotten." 

"I  deceive  a  man  like  Warburton  in  a  business 
transaction,"  laughed  the  Colonel.  "Make  him 
believe  that  he  had  overlooked  anything  at  all! 
Why,  Chris,  dear,  have  you  gone  mad?" 

"Indeed  I  think  I  have,"  answered  the  girl. 
"Now  I  really  can't  stand  much  more.  I've  told 
you  everything.  I  have  opened  my  whole  heart  to 
you.  You  must  do  these  two  things.  You  must 
turn  Mr.  Ney land's  fortune  into  money  and  hold 
it  for  me  and  put  John  Warburton  in  possession 
of  every  dollar  that  I  have  won  and  when  I  reach 
Bermuda  I  will  write  you  further  what  to  do. " 

"But  my  dear  girl. " 

"Oh,  Colonel,  I'm  tried  beyond  endurance. 
Won't  you  leave  me  alone  now  and  come  again 
tomorrow?" 

"I'll  be  here  early  in  the  morning,  say  about  half- 
past  nine,  and  perhaps  I  shall  have  news  for  you, " 
said  the  old  man  as  he  took  his  departure. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

BROKEN  HONOUR 

THE  Colonel  was  glad  to  leave.  He  wanted  time 
to  collect  his  thoughts  and  to  decide  upon  some 
course  of  action.  He  had  come  there  prepared 
to  tell  Chrissey  de  Selden  everything,  and  he  found 
himself  confronted  with  such  a  totally  different 
set  of  conditions  that  he  was  at  a  loss  what  to  do. 

As  he  went  home  he  revolved  the  situation  in  his 
mind  and  considered  above  everything  his  promise 
to  be  silent.  It  was  an  obligation  impossible 
to  keep.  He  was  as  nice  on  the  point  of  honour 
as  any  man  on  earth.  Meticulous,  his  business 
associates  called  him,  and  he  had  kept  his  word  to 
his  own  hurt  many  a  time.  Now  he  was  asked  to 
keep  it  to  the  hurt  of  Chrissey  de  Selden  and  John 
Warburton.  He  was  also  asked  by  these  two  to  do 
things  diametrically  opposed. 

It  was  an  unprecedented  situation.  As  nice 
customs  courtesy  to  great  kings  so  invariable  laws 
must  sometimes  be  broken,  even  when  they  are 
laws  of  honour.  The  Colonel  had  two  counsellors 
in  whom  he  could  confide  and  whose  advice  he  could 
ask,  counsellors  who  held  the  two  parties  concerned 

378 


Broken  Honour  379 

in  as  deep  an  affection  as  he  held  them,  and  to  them 
he  repaired. 

It  was  still  early  in  the  afternoon.  The  Duke 
had  not  gone  down-town  and  he  and  Rose  were  in 
the  library.  They  had  not  ceased  to  be  lovers 
although  six  months  married  and  they  were  never 
so  happy  as  in  their  own  society. 

"Attavanti, "  began  Colonel  Tayloe,  "I  know 
you  to  be  a  man  of  unblemished  integrity  with  a 
sense  of  honour  worthy  of  the  finest  traditions  of 
the  Old  Dominion. " 

The  Duke  bowed,  his  face  flushing  a  little  with 
pride  at  this  commendation  from  an  old  man  whose 
opinion  he  had  learned  to  value,  although  he  had 
no  idea  what  was  this  Old  Dominion  referred  to, 
and  the  Duchess  put  her  arm  around  her  father's 
neck  and  kissed  him  warmly  in  high  appreciation. 

"And  I  know  that  Rose,  my  daughter,  is  well 
worthy  of  association  with  you  on  those  or  any 
other  terms." 

"You  voice  my  sincerest  conviction,  sir,"  said 
the  Duke. 

"Now  I  am  about  to  do  what  I  never  did  in  my 
life  before,  what  I  never  thought  to  do. " 

"And  what  is  that,  Father?"  asked  Rose. 

"Let  us  all  sit  down,  "  said  the  Colonel,  glancing 
at  the  door  and  seeing  that  it  was  shut.  "It's 
a  long  story.  Duke,  I  'm  going  to  break  my  plighted 
word  of  honour.  Can  you  conceive  of  any  situ- 
ation in  which  a  gentleman  would  be  justified  in 
so  doing?" 


380         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

The  Duke  paused  a  little  space,  his  head  bent, 
his  brow  wrinkled,  his  cigarette  neglected  in  his 
hand.  It  was  indeed  a  grave  question.  Rose,  who 
was  learning  not  to  interrupt  in  serious  crises, 
waited  breathlessly  for  his  reply. 

"Yes,  "  said  the  Italian  at  last,  "I  can.  A  gentle- 
man may  break  his  plighted  word  for  a  woman. 
Perhaps  in  some  cases  he  even  must  do  that. " 

"Exactly,"  said  the  Colonel  triumphantly. 
"It  is  wonderful  how  much  alike  are  Italy  as 
you  represent  it  and  old  Virginia  as  I  do. " 

"There  is  no  nationality  between  gentlemen, 
sir, "  said  Di  Attavanti.  ' '  The  laws  of  honour  and 
its  obligations  are  alike  everywhere." 

"Quite  so.  Well,  I  gave  my  word  of  honour 
to  Chrissey  de  Selden,  not  half  an  hour  ago,  that 
I  would  not  reveal  what  she  told  me,  but  I'm 
going  to  break  it  now. " 

"Allow  me,"  said  the  Duke  gravely,  "in  a 
matter  so  serious  as  this,  which  involves  your 
honour,  I  am  sure  you  have  not  come  to  your 
conclusion  without  due  reflection. " 

There  was  a  little  note  of  interrogation  in  the 
observation  which  bespoke  the  nice  sensitiveness 
of  the  little  Italian. 

"You  may'  be  sure  of  that,"  answered  the 
Colonel;  "I've  thought  of  nothing  else  since  I  left 
her." 

"Knowing  you  personally  and  through  my  wife 
as  well  I  am  sure  that  your  decision  is  undoubtedly 
right, "  went  on  the  Duke. 


Broken  Honour  381 

"Thank  you." 

"And  as  it  is  your  honour  we  will  cherish  it 
sacredly  so  long  as  you  require. " 

"Dear  Father,  how  long  will  you  two  men  fence 
with  each  other?  Frankly,  I'm  dying  to  know 
what  it  is.  Anything  that  may  promote  Chrissey's 
happiness  and  take  the  agony  out  of  her  heart — 
heavens,  I  wouldn't  think  of  honour  for  a  minute!" 

"My  Rose,  the  sentiment  does  credit  to  your 
heart  if  not  to  your  soul,"  observed  her  husband. 

"Well,  the  point  is  this, "  said  the  Colonel. 
"Chrissey  de  Selden  thinks  herself  guilty  of 
Neyland's  death  because  of  a  letter  she  sent  him 
refusing  to  marry  him.  She's  in  love  with 
Warburton!" 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  Duke. 

"I  knew  it.  I  was  sure  of  it,  only  I  didn't  dare 
say  so, "  burst  out  Rose. 

"She  told  me  so  herself." 

"Well,  then  everything  will  be  easy  and  that 
poor  girl  will " 

"Not  so  fast,"  interposed  the  Colonel;  "on  the 
contrary  everything  is  miserably  complicated  and 
I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"Explain  further,  my  dear  Colonel." 

' '  It's  this  way.  She  hasn't  the  faintest  idea  that 
that  pool  went  to  smash,  that  Neyland's  fortune 
and  hers  were  lost.  She  doesn't  dream  that  she's 
penniless.  She  thinks  she's  a  richer  woman  than 
ever  before  and  she  intends  to  give  Neyland's  for- 
tune, left  her  by  will,  to  charity,  and  she  wants 


382         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

to  give  all  the  profits  that  she  thinks  she  has  made 
out  of  her  fortune  to  John  Warburton  whom  she 
pictures  as  a  crushed,  ruined  man. " 

"Per  Dior'  exclaimed  Di  Attavanti. 

"And  this  isn't  all.  Warburton,  as  you  know, 
charged  me  to  convey  Chrissey  de  Selden's  original 
fortune,  which  was  all  swept  away  in  the  failure, 
back  to  her.  I  told  him  she  would  not  accept  any- 
thing from  him  and  he  said  I  should  go  about  it  by 
indirection.  I  told  her  that  he  would  not  accept 
anything  from  her  and  she  told  me  to  go  about 
that  by  indirection  also!  What  am  I  to  do?" 

"It  is  indeed  a  difficult  situation." 

"Difficult?  It  is  impossible,  so  I  am  telling 
this  to  you  and  asking  your  advice. " 

"Advice,"  repeated  the  Duke,  getting  up  and 
pacing  the  floor  nervously.  "I  must  think.  I 
must  consider.  It  is  not  an  easy  problem. " 

"Easy!     I  repeat  it's  impossible. " 

"I'll  tell  you  one  thing  you  can  do,  Father," 
said  the  practical  Rose,  "you  can  relieve  her  mind 
as  to  her  letter  having  caused  Mr.  Neyland's 
death." 

"How?" 

"By  giving  it  back  to  her." 

"I  don't  understand." 

"Oh,  Father,  Father,"  said  the  girl,  "you're 
so  interested  in  big  business  that  little  things 
escape  you.  Where  is  that  letter  she  wrote  him 
that  you  took  from  Mr.  Neyland's  hand  and  did  not 
give  to  the  coroner,  wicked  old  man  that  you  are?" 


Broken  Honour  383 

"Here  it  is,"  said  the  Colonel.  "I  intended 
to  give  it  to  her  this  morning  but  in  view  of  this 
complication  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"Look  at  it,  Father,  look  at  it,  Enrico.  What 
do  you  two  wiseacres  deduce  from  it?" 

"Why,  mia  carissima,  nothing  in  particular." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Rose?" 

"It  has  never  been  opened,  stupids." 

"Of  course.  That's  quite  evident,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"Ah,  he  started  to  tear  open  the  envelope  and 
then  thought  better  of  it,  for  what  reason,  I  know 
not,  is  it  not  so,  my  Rose?"  said  the  Duke  quickly. 

"It  is  so  indeed,  mio  sapiente  Enrico,"  said  the 
Duchess  lightly. 

"But  why?"  asked  the  Colonel. 

"I  think  I  can  guess  why  he  didn't  open  it," 
answered  his  daughter  promptly  with  a  woman's 
swift  intuition;  "he  felt  himself  unworthy  after  his 
fall." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  Colonel;  "I  knew  that 
we  hadn't  fathomed  the  depth  of  your  insight." 

"Carina,"  said  the  little  Duke  approvingly,  "it 
is  undoubtedly  as  you  say." 

"Therefore,"  continued  Rose  with  inexorable 
logic,  "if  she  imagines  that  her  letter  caused  his 
suicide  it  will  be  easy  to  prove  her  wrong  by  return- 
ing it." 

"It  is  very  simple,"  said  the  Duke. 

"Well,  that  helps  a  little,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"but  how  about  Warburton?  There  is  the 


384         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

greater  problem.  I  really  couldn't  violate  my 
promise  to  her  by  revealing  to  him  all  that  she  said 
about  not  loving  Neyland  and  loving  Warburton. " 

"No,  you  couldn't  but  I  could,"  said  Rose 
promptly. 

Both  men  stared  at  her  in  dismay. 

"Rose,"  said  the  Colonel,  "I  charge  you  to  say 
nothing  about  this  matter  either  to  Chrissey 
or  John  Warburton  until  I  give  you  leave. " 

"It  grieves  me  to  oppose  you  in  anything,  mia 
carissima,"  said  the  Duke  gravely,  "and  I  am  far 
from  wishing  to  exercise  any  authority,  but  I  am 
sure  you  will  respect  your  father's  request,  which  is 
my  own. " 

"Oh,  very  well,"  said  Rose,  somewhat  abashed 
by  the  gravity  of  the  two  men,  "I  won't  say  any- 
thing until  you  give  me  leave,  but  if  you'd  let  me 
I  could  settle  it  in  ten  minutes  by  telephoning  Mr. 
Warburton  and  sending  him  instantly  to  Chris. 
I'm  sure  they  could  adjust  their  differences  after 
the  briefest  of  conversations." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"but  there  may  be  something  in  the  idea.  At 
any  rate  we've  got  to  decide  upon  some  course  of 
action,  and  whatever  we  decide  will  be  wrong  from 
one  point  of  view  and  right  from  another." 

"Exactly,  my  dear  Colonel,"  said  the  Duke 
gravely.  "  Let  us  reflect  upon  it. " 

"While  you're  both  reflecting,"  said  the  irre- 
pressible Rose,  "try  to  think  more  of  the  happiness 
of  the  two  than  of  your  honour. " 


Broken  Honour  385 

There  was  a  tap  on  the  door  at  this  mo- 
ment. Bidden  to  enter,  one  of  the  footmen 
brought  in  a  card  which  he  handed  to  the 
Duchess. 

"Speaking  of  angels,"  she  exclaimed,  although 
no  one  had  been  so  doing.  "This  card  bears  the 
name  of  Father  Stuart-Smith  of  Bermuda." 

"He  is  the  Priest  who  tried  to  help  Chrissey. 
I  remember  him  perfectly,"  said  the  Colonel. 
"She  told  me  she  was  going  to  Bermuda  to  ask 
his  advice  as  to  her  future  career.  She  thinks  she 
has  not  yet  made  sufficient  expiation." 

"In  my  country,  a  nunnery " 

"Now,  Enrico,"  burst  out  Rose,  "don't  spoil  the 
chances  of  happiness  of  the  two  persons  we  are  so 
fond  of  by  suggesting  a  nunnery. " 

"To  serve  God,  to  seek  to  repair  injuries  of 
which  we  have  been  the  witting  or  unwitting  cause, 
by  devoting  oneself  to  His  work  is  surely  not 
unworthy  even  of  those  so  highly  placed  and 
greatly  endowed  as  our  friends." 

" Enrico  mio,"  said  the  Duchess  coming  over 
to  him  and  sitting  down  on  the  arm  of  the  chair 
near  which  he  was  standing  and  looking  up  at 
him  in  a  way  that  he  found  surpassingly  charm- 
ing, "haven't  you  been  happy  with  me?" 

"Beyond  my  wildest  dream,  carissima." 

"And  haven't  I  been  happy  with  you?" 

"You  have  led  me  so  to  believe  in  spite  of  my 
own  unworthiness. " 

Rose  reached  up  her  arm  and  drew  his  head 

25 


386          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

down  toward  her  and  kissed  him  boldly,  quite 
oblivious  of  her  father's  presence. 

11 1  want  poor  Chris  and  Mr.  Warburton  to  have 
a  little  happiness  like  ours." 

"But  there  will  always  be  something  between 
them." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Colonel,  "but  in  spite  of  that 
the"  may  do  fairly  well,  I  think." 

"We  are  keeping  Father  Smith  waiting,"  said 
Rose.  "I  have  an  idea  that  his  counsel  may  be 
of  service." 

"I  couldn't  share  Chrissey's  confidence  even  with 
a  Priest  of  the  Church,"  said  the  old  Colonel, 
"but  he  comes  at  an  opportune  time.  We  will 
send  him  to  her.  She'll  see  him,  I'm  sure. " 

Father  Smith's  presence  was  soon  explained. 
He  had  come  up  from  Bermuda  on  a  well-earned 
vacation.  He  had  called  on  Warburton  to  seek 
tidings  of  his  wife.  Warburton  had  insisted  upon 
taking  him  into  his  house  and  as  he  was  detained 
at  the  office  had  sent  him  up  with  a  letter  assigning 
him  to  the  care  of  the  Duchess,  who  was  dispensing 
its  hospitality. 

The  two  men  and  the  woman  were  fascinated, 
as  everybody  was,  with  the  sweetness  and  light  so 
wondrously  mingled  with  the  shrewd  worldly 
wisdom  of  the  old  ecclesiastic.  They  told  him 
the  whole  story  or  as  much  of  it  as  they  could. 

4 '  I  will  go  to  see  her  at  once , ' '  said  the  Priest.  ' '  It 
is  still  early  in  the  afternoon.  There  is  something 
back  of  it  all.  You  are  concealing  something." 


Broken  Honour  387 

He  put  his  hand  out  deprecatingly  to  still  the 
outbreak  of  protest. 

"I  understand  exactly  why  you  should  feel 
under  certain  restraint  and  I  honour  you  for  it. 
Mrs.  Warburton " 

"Miss  de  Selden,  since  the  divorce,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"  That  has  not  altered  things, "  said  the  old  man. 
"She  is  still  a  wife.  She  must  give  me  her  own 
confidence  and  perhaps  by  the  will  of  God  I  can 
help  her." 

"By  heaven,  sir,"  burst  out  the  Colonel,  "if 
you  can  help  her  it  will  be  more  than  any  of  the 
rest  of  us  can.  There  are  some  other  things 
I  can  tell  you."  He  put  the  Priest  quickly 
in  possession  of  the  delusion  that  Chrissey  enter- 
tained about  the  state  of  her  fortune  and  her  atti- 
tude toward  Warburton  as  well  as  the  realities  of 
the  case  and  Warburton' s  intentions  toward  her. 
"These  facts  you  will,  of  course,  not  animadvert 
upon  to  her  until  she  tells  you  herself. " 

"You  may  leave  everything  to  my  discretion, 
gentlemen,  and  you  Duchess,"  said  Father  Smith. 
"  If  I  can  help  her  I  shall  and  I  trust  that  God  will 
show  me  the  way." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

STILL  PLAYING  THE  GAME 

JOHN  WARBURTON  knew  that  Colonel  Tayloe 
had  seen  Chrissey  de  Selden  that  afternoon. 
His  eagerness  to  see  the  Colonel  after  that  inter- 
view was  perhaps  the  keenest  desire  that  had  ever 
possessed  him,  but  a  series  of  extraordinary  demands 
kept  him  at  his  desk.  A  man  could  not  pass 
through  such  a  battle  as  he  had  but  two  days 
before  without  involving  himself  in  a  multiplicity  of 
adjustments  which  were  imperative  in  their  de- 
mands. Although  no  man  could  work  more  quickly 
and  no  man  had  mastered  the  nice  art  of  settling 
a  question  and  a  questioner  briefly  and  accurately 
better  than  he  it  was  impossible  to  get  away 
early.  It  was  maddening  but  he  was  detained 
for  some  hours  after  his  usual  time  for  departure. 

Men  like  John  Warburton,  concentrated,  self- 
centred,  imperious,  when  they  determine  upon  a 
course  are  apt  to  be  absolutely  devoted  to  it.  He 
had  loved  late  in  life.  He  knew  that  his  passion 
for  Chrissey  de  Selden  was  as  eternal  as  the  stars. 
Sometimes  in  the  privacy  of  his  chamber  he  gave 
way  to  bitter  grief  and  longing.  It  is  not  in 

388 


Still  Playing  the  Game  389 

humanity  to  maintain  for  ever  an  outward  impas- 
sivity. There  must  be  occasional  solutions  of  the 
continuity  of  self -repression,  else  the  soul  would 
break.  And  these  outbursts  of  which  no  one  knew 
and  which  he  was  even  ashamed  that  God  should 
see,  saved  him  from  going  to  pieces  utterly.  He 
was  near  such  a  break  then.  Singular  how  thought 
of  one  small  woman  affected  men  so  different  in 
temperament  as  Neyland  and  Warburton! 

Having  at  last,  as  he  supposed,  disposed  of 
everything  most  pressing  he  closed  and  locked  his 
desk,  seized  his  hat,  and  started  for  the  door  only 
to  be  confronted  by  his  confidential  clerk  with  a 
statement  that  Mr.  Billy  Alton  wanted  to  see 
him. 

"  Tell  him  I  can't  see  him, "  was  the  curt  answer. 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  clerk,  "Mr.  Alton 
expected  that  would  be  your  answer  and  he  said 
that  it  was  a  matter  of  life  and  death  to  him.  He 
said  you  knew  him  well  enough  to  realize  that  he 
wouldn't  say  that  unless  it  were  true  and  he  added 
that  probably  five  minutes  of  your  time  would  be 
enough  for  him." 

"Send  him  in,"  said  Warburton. 

He  did  not  like  Alton,  he  despised  his  species. 
So  far  as  he  could  Alton  had  been  back  of  the 
attack  against  him  but  that  he  should  come  to 
Warburton  now  interested  him.  He  did  not  sit 
down,  he  stood  by  his  desk  and  confronted  the 
other  as  he  came  through  the  door.  Alton  had  al- 
ways taken  life  easily.  A  bon  vivant,  an  epicure,  a 


390         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

pleasure-seeker,  he  had  heretofore  allowed  nothing 
to  ruffle  his  serenity.  Now  he  looked  old  and 
shrunken,  withered,  haggard. 

"Mr.  Warburton,"  he  began  nervously,  "I 
appreciate  that  if  you  were  any  other  man  my 
course  in  coming  to  you  would  be  absurd  and 
impossible. " 

"I'm  in  great  haste,"  returned  Mr.  Warburton, 
bowing  slightly  in  acknowledgment  of  what  the 
other  evidently  meant  to  b e  complimentary .  "But 
that  your  business  according  to  your  message  was 
as  brief  as  it  was  important  I  should  not  have  seen 
you."  " 

"I  appreciate  that  and  thank  you." 

"Will  you  explain  just  what  you  want  as 
quickly  as  possible?"  went  on  the  other,  a  little 
touch  of  pity  in  his  iron  heart,  so  abject  and 
miserable  was  the  aspect  of  the  man  whom  he 
had  known  so  debonair  and  insouciant  in  other 
days. 

"Mr.  Warburton,  I  want  to  ask  you  for  work." 

"What  sort  of  work?" 

"Any  that  you  can  give  me." 

"Why  apply  tome?" 

"Well,  sir,  you're  the  only  man  I  ever  fought 
against  very  hard.  This  unfortunate  combination 
was  due  in  some  measure  to  my  arrangement 
and  that  we  came  so  near  beating  you  I  think 
testifies  in  some  degree  to  my  ability.  This 
is  the  only  real  business  I  have  ever  essayed  and 
although  it  doesn't  seem  much  of  a  recommend- 


Still  Playing  the  Game          391 

ation,  I'll  admit,  when  I  have  been  so  badly  beaten, 
in  fact  ruined,  still  I  think  it  is  an  evidence  that 
I'm  good  for  something  as  a  fighter  anyway." 

Warburton  smiled  slightly,  his  grim  features 
relaxing  a  little. 

"It  is  a  recommendation,  for  you  played  no 
small  part  in  the  combination,  I  understand,  you 
and  your  friend  Neyland" — his  jaw  tightened  and 
his  lips  stiffened  as  he  bit  that  name  out — "and 
I'll  say  this,  that  never  in  my  business  career 
have  I  been  compelled  to  fight  harder  and  never 
have  I  won  victory  more  narrowly." 

"I  knew  you  were  a  big  enough  man  to  see  it 
that  way,"  said  Alton  simply.  "The  point  is  if 
I  can  do  such  good  work  against  you  what  mightn't 
I  do  with  you?" 

"But  why  do  you  want  to  go  to  work?" 

"Put  it  that  I've  enjoyed  the  game,"  answered 
Alton  evasively. 

"That  won't  do.  If  you  work  for  me  there 
must  be  absolute  confidence  between  us." 

"Well,  say  that  I've  lost  everything  and  have 
got  to  go  to  work,  then." 

"Good  so  far  as  it  goes  but  not  far  enough. 
You're  not  the  man  to  get  in  your  present  vein 
because  you've  lost  your  money.  By  the  way, 
can't  I  offer  you  something?" 

"Not  me,"  said  Alton,  emphatically  turning  his 
back  on  the  buffet.  "  I've  quit  it.  I  quit  it  before 
the  crash  and  if  I  hadn't  done  it  then  the  thought 
of  Neyland " 


392         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Don't  bring  him  into  the  conversation." 

"The  truth  is  the  loss  of  my  money  is  the  least 
of  my  troubles." 

"What  else  have  you  lost?" 

"My  wife." 

"Ah!" 

"And  so  I  came  to  you " 

"  On  the  supposition  that  a  fellow  feeling  makes 
us  wondrous  kind,  Mr.  Alton?" 

"Before  God,  no!  I  never  thought  of  that. 
Now  that  I've  made  so  frightful  a  blunder  the  only 
thing  is  to  withdraw  and  thank  you  for  having 
heard  me." 

"Wait.  We're  in  the  same  boat  in  one  sense 
and  I'm  disposed  to  help  you  provided  you  will 
give  me  your  full  confidence. " 

"Read  this,  then,"  said  Alton,  handing  a 
crumpled  note  to  Warburton. 

"I  have  observed,"  said  the  latter,  "that  men 
do  many  things  on  impulse  for  which  they  are 
afterwards  very  sorry,  especially  when  it  comes 
to  revealing  their  intimate  personal  concerns.  Do 
you  really  desire  me  to  read  this  letter,  which 
appears  to  be" — he  glanced  at  it — "a  private 
communication  from  a  woman?" 

"From  my  wife.  I  want  you  to  read  it.  It's 
back  of  my  request.  For  God's  sake,  sir,  if  I 
don't  get  something  to  do  I'll  go  crazy." 

Warburton  considerately  turned  his  back  on 
Alton,  stepped  over  to  the  light,  and  unfolded 
the  letter.  And  thus  it  ran : 


Still  Playing  the  Game          393 

DEAR  BILLY: 

Well,  it's  all  over.  The  combination  failed.  War- 
burton  made  monkeys  of  you  all.  You  should  have 
known  better  than  to  fight  him.  You  told  me  last 
night  that  your  money  was  gone,  so  I  knew  it  was  time 
for  me  to  beat  it.  I  can't  live  without  all  those  things 
to  which  I've  been  accustomed  and  for  which  I've 
sacrificed  so  much.  I  was  a  fool  to  give  you  my  money, 
to  put  into  the  pool  but  you  seemed  so  sure,  you  and 
Dick  Neyland.  I  don't  mind  confessing  to  you  that 
I  kept  back  enough  to  enable  me  to  make  another 
visit  to  Reno  and  keep  me  going  for  a  breathing  time 
thereafter.  I'm  still  a  young  woman  and  there's 
as  good  fish  in  the  seas  as  ever  were  caught  and  one 
or  two  are  biting  at  the  hook  now.  This  will  be  hard 
for  you  at  first  but  it  won't  matter  much  in  the  long 
run.  You  can  get  another  wife.  The  possibilities  are 
as  plenty  as  blackberries  in  New  York,  and  by  the  same 
token  I  can  get  another  husband.  You've  got  so 
infernally  good  anyway  since  you  went  into  business 
that  we  aren't  congenial  any  more.  We  had  a  fine 
time  together  while  it  lasted.  Let's  part  without  any 
regrets  on  either  side.  And  by  the  way,  since  you  must 
be  pretty  hard  up  and  since  I've  got  a  few  thousand 
ahead  myself,  more  than  I'll  need  until  I  get  settled 
again — I  didn't  give  you  everything  you  see — I  en- 
close you  a  check  for  five  thousand  dollars,  which  I  had 
certified  at  the  bank  this  morning.  It  will  tide  you 
over  a  little  while  perhaps.  I  did  like  you,  Billy,  and 
I'm  awfully  sorry  you're  down  and  out  and  that  you 
can't  play  the  game  with  me  any  longer. 

Yours  in  undying  remembrance  if   not  affection, 

BECKY. 


394          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

Warburton  handed  the  letter  back  to  Alton 
without  a  word. 

"Nice  letter,"  said  Billy  miserably,  "isn't  it?" 

"I  shall  not  presume  to  comment  on  it,  Mr. 
Alton.  It  speaks  for  itself.  It  gives  you  abun- 
dant reason,  however,  to  desire  to  do  something. 
I  know  myself  that  work  is  the  best  medicine  for 
a  case  like  that." 

"I  thought  so,  too,"  answered  Alton  simply. 

"I'll  take  you  into  my  office.  I  think  I  see 
where  I  can  utilize  the  abilities  you  seem  to  possess, 
but  before  we  settle  upon  it  finally  let  me  ask  you 
one  question.  What  did  you  do  with  that  certi- 
fied check?" 

"Mailed  it  to  her  at  once.  I  knew  her  Reno 
address." 

"Good!"  said  Warburton.  "I  shouldn't  have 
had  any  use  for  you  if  you  had  accepted  anything 
from  her  under  the  circumstances.  Now  if  you're 
in  need  of  money " 

"  It's  not  as  bad  as  that, "  said  Alton.  "  I  have 
a  little.  What  I  want  is  work. " 

"Just  so.  As  I  said  before  I'm  very  busy.  If 
you  will  come  down  to  the  office  tomorrow  after- 
noon we  can  arrange  your  employment  and 
compensation." 

"Mr.  Warburton,"  exclaimed  Alton,  "I  don't 
know  how  to  thank  you.  It  was  worth  while 
fighting  you  to  get  white  treatment  like  this. 
I'll  work  my  fingers  to  the  bone  for  you.  It's 
all  I've  got." 


Still  Playing  the  Game          395 

"You're  young  yet,"  said  Warburton  bit- 
terly; "you'll  find  many  things  in  life  before 
you." 


CHAPTER  XL 

OVERRULED 

As  it  chanced  Warburton  and  Father  Smith 
met  at  the  door  of  the  house. 

"Have  you  only  just  arrived,  Father  Smith?" 
asked  Warburton  in  some  surprise.  "You  should 
have  been  here  hours  ago.  Has  the  chauffeur — ?  " 

"On  the  contrary,"  answered  the  Priest.  "I 
was  delivered  with  commendable  promptness  and 
received  with  charming  hospitality  by  your  friend 
Colonel  Tayloe  and  the  Duke  and  Duchess.  I 
have  been  out  to — "  He  stopped  abruptly. 
The  two  gentlemen  had  reached  the  door.  Father 
Smith  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  his  host.  "  I've 
been  out  to  make  a  call,"  he  resumed  at  last, 
suddenly  deciding  on  his  course. 

"Indeed.  I  didn't  know  that  you  were  ac- 
quainted in  New  York.  I  thought " 

"I  know  few  people  beside  you  and  your 
wife." 

"I  have  no  doubt  you  mean  well,  I'm  sure," 
said  Warburton  bending  forward  to  hide  the  wave 
of  emotion  which  had  swept  over  him,  "but  that 
lady  is  no  longer  named  in  this  household. "  He 

396 


Overruled  397 

turned  the  key  and  opened  the  door.  "Forgive 
me,"  he  continued  briefly,  "will  you  enter?" 

"Is  there  a  place  where  we  can  talk  just  a 
moment  undisturbed?"  asked  Father  Smith. 

"There  is  the  little  reception  room  yonder." 

"Give  me  a  few  minutes  then." 

"  Of  course,  but  may  I  repeat  that  I  do  not  wish 
to  hear  anything  about ' 

"Mr.  Warburton,"  said  Father  Smith,  closing 
the  door  of  the  little  room,  "  sometimes  it  is  a  man's 
duty  to  disregard  the  injunctions  of  men  and  fol- 
low a  clear  indication  from  God." 

"Surely,  sir,  I  am  not  transgressing  the  limits  of 
hospitality  in  asking  you  as  my  guest  to  refrain 
from  one  topic?" 

He  stood  very  straight.  He  could  discuss  his 
affairs  with  a  man  like  Colonel  Tayloe  and  the 
business  to  be  adjusted  gave  him  an  excuse  but 
it  was  different  with  this  somewhat  strange  and 
decidedly  not  very  old  acquaintance.  He  looked 
very  grim  and  ruthless  as  he  drew  himself  up  but 
Father  Smith  was  not  in  the  least  abashed. 

"Even  the  laws  of  hospitality,"  he  went  on 
indomitably,  "  must  bow  before  such  an  obligation 
as  is  laid  upon  me." 

"  Have  you  by  any  chance  a  message  for  me  from 
my— that  lady?" 

"A  thousand,"  was  the  amazing  answer,  "not 
one  of  which  I  can  deliver,  because  I  am  bound 
in  honour  to  silence." 

"Well,  sir,  why  speak  at  all?" 


398          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"But  I  am  not  bound  in  honour  to  inaction." 

"And  what  would  you  do?" 

"Send  you  to  call  upon  your  wife." 

"Impossible!" 

"Look  at  me,  Mr.  Warburton.  Am  I  a  man 
carried  away  by  transient  emotion,  apt  to  give 
counsel  not  to  be  heeded,  indiscreet?" 

"You  look  sane  enough,  but  your  words,  your 
excited  bearing 

"I  am  as  composed  as  you  are." 

"But  I  am  not  at  all  composed,  sir.  You 
have  annoyed  me  greatly  with  your  doubtless 
well  meant  attempts  at " 

"Nay,  I  am  certain  that  I  am  less  disturbed 
than  you  are,  for  I  know  your  agitation  must  be 
extreme  despite  your  iron  self-control.  Let  me 
ask  you  one  question.  Upon  your  answer  will 
depend  my  further  course.  Do  you  still  love 
your  wife?" 

Warburton  drew  himself  up  more  erect  than 
ever  if  possible.  This  was  passing  all  bounds. 
He  was  properly  and  righteously  indignant. 

"I  recognize  no  right — "  he  said,  smiting  his 
hands  together  with  a  fierce  gesture  of  indignation. 

"Your  answer,"  cried  the  other  as  imperiously 
as  if  he  had  been  the  soldier  he  started  out  to  be. 

"Why  should  I  disguise  it?"  said  Warburton  at 
last.  "Although  you  have  no  right  to  ask  I 
admit  that  I  do.  A  man  of  my  temperament 
and  years  loves  but  once,  sir. " 

"  My  dear  sir,  men  of  different  temperament  who 


Overruled  399 

have  longpassedyour  years  can  say  the  same  thing. 
Your  answer  has  decided  me.  I  have  one  injunc- 
tion to  lay  upon  you.  Go  to  your  wife  at  once. " 

"Why?" 

"I  cannot  tell  you  more  than  that." 

"Did  she  suggest  to  you?" 

"She  didn't  hint  it  in  the  remotest  way.  She 
doesn't  dream  that  I  am  saying  this  to  you  and  I 
am  coming  as  near  violating  my  plighted  word  in 
doing  so  as  a  man  can." 

"I  will  think  on  it,"  said  Warburton  strangely 
moved. 

"  May  I  come  in?"  asked  Rose  and  without  wait- 
ing for  permission  she  opened  the  door.  "Excuse 
me,  Father  Smith,  but  father  and  the  Duke  want  to 
see  you  in  the  library.  Mr.  Warburton,  they 
have  something  to  say  to  you. " 

"Oh,  Duchess,"  said  Father  Smith,  "you  came 
at  an  inopportune  time,  forgive  me  that  I  say  it. 
I  had  just  about  persuaded  Mr.  Warburton  to  do 
what  I  asked  him  and  you  give  him  a  chance  to 
hesitate  and  refuse." 

"And  what  did  you  ask?" 

"I  forbid  you  to  discuss  the  matter  further," 
exclaimed  Warburton. 

But  the  indomitable  Priest  went  on. 

"  I  told  him  to  go  to  his  wife. " 

"No  man  was  ever  given  better  advice,"  said 
the  Duchess  to  the  amazement  of  both. 

"Madam,  you  will  help  me?"  asked  the  Priest 
greatly  relieved. 


4oo         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Help  you,  of  course  I  will.  Wait."  She 
turned  to  the  door  and  called  her  father  and  hus- 
band. In  a  moment  the  two  gentlemen  presented 
themselves.  "Father  Smith,"  exclaimed  Rose, 
"has  just  come  from  Chrissey  de  Selden.  He 
and  Mr.  Warburton  came  in  together.  I  saw 
them  meet  just  outside  the  door.  After  they  came 
into  this  room  I  waited  as  long  as  I  could  and  then 
I  came  in.  Father  Smith  has  just  given  Mr. 
Warburton  a  piece  of  advice." 

"It's  a  frightful  piece  of  presumption,"  said 
Warburton  sternly,  "that  my  affairs  should  be 
discussed  in  this  public  manner.  I  must  re- 
quest  " 

"John, "  interrupted  the  old  Colonel,  "we  are  all 
friends  of  yours,  the  best  friends  you  have,  and  we 
all  love  Chrissey  de  Selden.  We  want  her  happi- 
ness as  much  as  yours.  Father  Smith  is  a  man  of 
wisdom  and  discretion.  His  advice  is  to  be  heeded. 
He  is  a  man  to  be  trusted. " 

"I  thank  you,  sir." 

"What  did  you  advise  him  to  do?" 

"To  go  to  see  his  wife  at  once. " 

"Why,  God  bless  me!"  said  the  Colonel,  "I 
never  thought  of  that,  but  it  does  seem  to  settle 
the  question.  No  course,  I  am  persuaded,  could 
be  better  than  that." 

"I  swore  that  I  would  never  go  near  her  again. 
I  must  keep  that  pledge  unless  she  should  send  for 
me,  but  in  this  case " 

"I   can  only  repeat   Father   Smith's  advice," 


Overruled  401 

interposed  the  Colonel.  "What  do  you  say, 
Duke?" 

"You  must  go,  sir,"  answered  Di  Attavanti, 
promptly  seconding  his  father-in-law. 

"Impossible." 

"  Now  look  at  us,  John.  I'm  your  oldest  friend. 
I've  known  you  since  you  were  a  boy.  Also  I 
have  been  closer  to  Chrissey  de  Selden  than  any 
one  else,  and  Rose  is  her  dearest  friend.  The  dis- 
cretion and  sound  common  sense  of  my  son-in- 
law  have  often  been  noted  between  us.  Here  is 
a  Priest  of  the  Church  the  confidant  of  your  wife. 
We  all  say  exactly  the  same  thing.  The  woman 
is  in  trouble.  She  is  lonely .  She  is  heart-broken. ' ' 

"Do  you  want  me  to  go  and  console  her  for  the 
death  of  Neyland  or  for  the  loss  of  her  fortune?" 
was  the  bitter  question. 

"Don't  be  a  fool,  John,"  said  the  Colonel 
brusquely.  "She  doesn't  need  consoling  for  the 
death  of  Neyland. " 

"You  are  verging  on  a  violation  of  confidence 
my  dear  sir, "  said  the  Priest. 

"  Can  anything  be  plainer?  "  said  the  old  Colonel, 
appealing  to  Warburton;  "and  as  for  her  fortune," 
he  went  on,  "  she  thinks  you  are  ruined  and  she  has 
it  all.  There  isn't  any  one  alive  or  dead  whom  she 
would  rather  see  than  you." 

"Does  she  expect  that  I " 

"Of  course  she  doesn't.  She  thinks  we  are  all 
honourable  men.  She  has  trusted  us  and  thinks 
we  would  not  betray  her  and  we  have  all  done  it. " 
26 


402          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"As  for  me,  sir,  I'm  glad  we  did  it,"  said  the 
Priest;  "but  go  now,  Mr.  Warburton,  before  I 
completely  ruin  myself." 

"She  wouldn't  receive  me." 

"I've  thought  of  that,"  said  Father  Smith. 
"If  you  will  allow  me  to  go  with  you  I  will  gain 
you  access  to  her." 

"I  won't  doit." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Warburton,  if  a  woman's  heart,  a 
woman's  soul,  a  woman's  love,  mean  anything  to 
you  go  to  her,"  cried  Rose,  coming  over  to  him 
and  laying  her  hand  on  his  shoulder  and  looking 
up  into  his  iron  face  beseechingly. 

Warburton  thought  for  a  long  time  while  the 
others  watched  him  in  silence.  It  was  sweet  Rose's 
plea  that  finally  decided  him.  That  and  the  wild 
craving  to  see  his  wife  that  was  always  present 
in  his  heart. 

"Very  well,  since  you  will  all  have  it  so  I  will 
go, "  he  said  at  last  and  the  anticipation  of  seeing 
her  overwhelmed  his  reluctance  to  submit  to  the 
overruling  of  the  others.  Not  daring  to  speak 
another  word  he  turned  toward  the  door. 

"I'm  coming,  sir,"  said  Father  Smith  following 
him. 

"Just  a  moment,"  interrupted  the  Colonel, 
"here  are  a  couple  of  letters." 

He  proffered  Warburton  the  two  papers. 

"What  are  these?" 

"One  is  a  letter  from  your  wife  to  Neyland." 

"Take  it  away,"  said  Warburton  harshly. 


Overruled  403 

"No,"  said  the  Colonel.  "You  must  take  it  to 
her.  Believe  me  in  spite  of  our  present  course  I 
am  as  nice  on  the  point  of  honour  as  any  man  on 
earth.  I  wouldn't  ask  you  to  do  it  unless  it  were 
right,  unless  her  happiness  and  your  own  were 
involved.  You  are  to  give  it  to  her  when  she 
reproaches  herself,  as  she  will,  for  the  death  of 
Neyland.  You  are  to  tell  her  that  I  took  it  from 
Neyland's  dead  hand.  You  will  call  her  attention 
to  the  fact  that  it  has  not  been  opened,  that  some- 
one began  to  open  it  and  stopped,  therefore  it  has 
not  been  read. " 

It  was  a  new  thing  for  Warburton  to  be  over- 
ruled, made  to  bend  his  will  to  someone  else. 
He  stood  stubborn  and  defiant. 

"Trust  me,  Mr.  Warburton,"  said  Rose  swiftly. 
"I  know  that  Father  is  right." 

"And  I,"  added  the  little  Duke. 

Warburton  looked  at  Father  Smith. 

"I  cannot  help  you  there,  sir,"  he  said,  "except 
to  say  that  I  think  whatever  counsel  those  good 
friends  give  should  be  heeded." 

"What  is  the  other  paper?"  asked  Warburton. 

"It  is  Neyland's  last  letter  to  your  wife." 

"But  you  are  asking  the  impossible,"  cried 
Warburton. 

"No,  they  both  go  together." 

"I  must  be  a  weak  fool  for  you  to  think  for  a 
moment  that  I " 

"You  are  going  to  show  yourself  a  stronger  man 
than  ever  before,"  said  the  Colonel. 


404          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Indeed,  I  think  so,  too,"  said  the  Priest. 

"And  I,  and  I,"  exclaimed  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  in  unison. 

Now  if  Warburton  had  not  been  so  madly  in  love 
with  his  wife,  if  he  had  not  so  passionately  yearned 
for  a  sight  of  her  he  would  even  then  have  turned 
a  deaf  ear  to  these  entreaties.  The  strongest  is 
sometimes  weak  for  a  moment  and  it  is  well  that  it 
should  be  so.  Unchanging  strength  is  an  attribute 
of  omnipotence  alone.  Still,  to  take  those  letters ! 
It  was  impossible.  Wise  old  Father  Smith  helped 
him  out  of  that  difficult  situation. 

"I'll  take  the  letters,  I'll  present  them  to  her 
myself,  and  then  you  can  see  her." 

"What  shall  I  say?  What  shall  I  do?  What 
is  the  object  of  the  visit?" 

"Nay,"  said  Father  Smith  imperturbably, 
"we  can  give  you  no  further  advice."  He  was  in 
excellent  spirits  now.  "You  will,  I  firmly  believe, 
be  in  God's  hands  and  both  of  you  will  know  what 
to  say  and  what  to  do." 

"Always  remember,  Warburton,  that  she  thinks 
you  are  a  ruined  man  and  she  a  rich  woman," 
cried  the  Colonel  after  his  departing  friends. 

Chrissey  de  Selden  was  very  much  surprised  to 
learn  that  Father  Smith  wanted  to  see  her  again 
so  soon  after  his  departure,  but  she  knew  that 
nothing  unimportant  would  have  brought  him  to 
her  a  second  time.  According  to  his  habit  he  went 
directly  to  the  matter  that  had  brought  him  back 
so  soon  as  he  saw  her. 


Overruled  405 

"  Colonel  Tayloe  was  so  surprised  this  afternoon 
that  he  did  not  give  you  these,"  began  Father 
Smith. 

Chrissey  de  Selden  seized  the  two  papers, 
dropped  one  and  concentrated  her  gaze  upon 
the  other. 

"My  letter!"  she  exclaimed,  "the  last  one  I 
wrote. " 

"Exactly.  You  will  notice  that  it  has  not  been 
opened.  Evidently  Mr.  Neyland  started  to  break 
the  envelope  and  stopped.  The  letter  was  never 
read." 

The  woman  rose  to  her  feet  and  flung  her  hands 
up  with  a  great  cry  of  relief. 

"He  didn't  know,  he  didn't  know,  oh  thank  God, 
he  didn't  know!" 

"True,"  said  the  Priest.  "He  didn't  know 
what  you  wrote  to  him  and  whatever  he  did  was  not 
caused  by  anything  in  that  letter." 

"Oh,  how  thankful  I  am!  What  is  the  other 
paper?" 

"His  own  last  words  to  you." 

She  tore  open  the  envelope.  She  read  the 
passionate,  hopeless,  bitter  farewell,  the  last  effort 
at  exculpation  and  then  she  dropped  the  paper  on 
the  table  by  her  own  still  unopened  letter. 

"Poor  man,"  she  said  quickly,  "poor  man,  but 
I'm  glad  he  didn't  read  that  letter.  It  takes  away 
some  of  the  burden  that  has  so  heavily  weighed 
upon  me." 

"Just  so,  Madam.     And  please  God  we  shall 


406          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

soon  take  away  the  balance.  Mrs.  Warburton  " — 
she  was  glad  he  never  called  her  anything  else  but 
that  although  she  had  no  right  to  the  title — "if  you 
will  indulge  me  a  little" — he  stepped  toward  her 
and  took  her  gently  by  the  arm,  and  turning 
her  face  to  the  window,  he  led  her  there, — "wait 
just  a  moment,  don't  look  around  until  I  speak 
again." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Just  promise  me  that." 

"Very  well." 

He  stepped  softly  to  the  door.  He  beckoned 
with  his  hand.  Warburton,  white  and  nervous, 
came  through  the  door.  The  Priest  pointed  to  the 
little  figure  outlined  against  the  fading  light  of  the 
late  afternoon  before  the  window.  Warburton 
stood  trembling  and  staring,  his  whole  heart  out- 
rushing  toward  that  slender  figure  whose  drooping 
curves  suggested  melancholy  and  sadness  illimi- 
table. He  forgot  Father  Smith,  he  forgot  every- 
thing but  that  he  was  here  and  she  was  there. 
Father  Smith  stepped  back  of  the  man,  passed 
through  the  door,  drew  it  after  him  until  it  was 
almost  shut. 

"Mrs.  Warburton!"  he  called  sharply  and  then 
closed  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XLI 

THE   SURRENDER 

WITHOUT  suspicion  the  woman  turned.  Her 
glance  swept  the  room,  until  it  rested  upon  the 
figure  before  the  door.  Her  back  was  to  the 
light,  her  face  in  the  shadow.  The  colour  that 
flamed  there  and  then  receded,  leaving  her  paler 
than  before,  might  have  told  Warburton  some- 
thing, but  in  the  twilight  of  the  waning  day  he  could 
not  even  see  the  rapid  rise  and  fall  of  her  bosom 
although  he  did  not  fail  to  note  the  swiftness  with 
which  her  left  hand  went  to  her  heart. 

He  was  in  the  full  illumination  of  whatever  light 
there  was.  She  saw  him  clearly.  His  self-control 
had  not  entirely  deserted  him  but  never  in  her  life 
had  she  seen  him  so  moved.  He  was  trembling,  his 
lips  twitched  a  little  nervously.  It  was  hard  to 
say  which  was  the  more  agitated,  but  she  seemed 
the  more  composed  and  as  usual  it  was  she  who 
broke  the  silence. 

"You!"  she  faltered,  her  voice  low  and  tense, 
almost  a  whisper.  "Why  did  you  come?" 

"I  hardly  know,"  he  answered,  taking  refuge 
in  the  commonplaces  inevitable  under  the  cir- 

407 


408          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

cumstances.  "If  I'm  unwelcome,  I'll  go,  of 
course." 

She  made  no  answer  for  a  moment.  She  was 
trying  desperately  for  self-control.  She  had 
known  that  she  loved  him  but  until  that  moment 
she  had  not  dreamed  how  much. 

"I  was  badly  advised,"  he  went  on.  "It  was 
not  my  wish.  I  came  against  my  will.  I  shouldn't 
have  intruded " 

"  I  wouldn't  have  you  stay  a  moment  if  it  should 
not  be  your  pleasure,"  she  said  at  last,  her  heart 
sinking  as  she  averted  her  head. 

"Christianna,"  he  burst  out  suddenly  and  now 
the  formal  name  she  had  disliked  sounded  sweetly 
in  her  ear,  "I  haven't  told  you  the  truth" — he 
threw  reserve  and  restraint  to  the  winds  and  made 
a  step  nearer  her.  "  They  did  urge  me  to  come,  all 
of  them.  I  resisted  them  a  long  time  but  not 
because  I  did  not  wish  to  come.  I  made  them 
think  I  yielded  to  their  entreaties  at  last  when 
all  the  time  I  longed  to  look  at  you  again,  just  to 
see  you  once  more.  I  know  that  you  care  nothing 
for  me,  that  you  cannot.  I  don't  blame  you.  I 
should  never  have  married  you.  But  my  love  for 
you,  which  has  steadily  grown  greater  until  it 
fairly  obsesses  me,  made  me  come.  Forgive  me. " 

"There  is  nothing  to  forgive,"  she  murmured, 
but  he  went  on  unheeding,  the  words  rushing  forth 
torrentially,  under  the  strong  pressure  of  long 
pent-up  emotion. 

"I  thought  that  I  would  hear  your  voice,  that  I 


The  Surrender  409 

would  see  you,  that  by  some  happy  chance  I 
might  even  touch  your  hand,  and  then  that  I  could 
go  away  and  in  the  strength  of  that  touch  and  that 
sight  and  that  memory  I  could  live  on.  I  thought 
it  would  help  me  to  ease  this  horrible  pain,  to  bear 
my  lonely  lot.  I  was  mistaken.  It  makes  it 
harder.  I  am  not  one  to  take  defeat  easily  and  the 
sight  of  you  after  all  these  months,  standing  there 
as  you  are" — she  was  wearing  an  exquisite  after- 
noon negligee  or  tea-gown,  which  somehow  added 
a  touch  of  intimacy  to  the  association  and  which 
intensified  his  feeling — "I  can't  stand  it.  I  must 
go  now.  I  shouldn't  have  come.  I  miscalculated 
my  strength.  Good  God,  Christianna,  won't  you 
even  speak  to  me?" 

"  I'm  very  glad  you  came, "  said  the  woman,  her 
heart  beating,  her  soul  thrilling  to  the  passionate 
tenderness  of  his  appeal.  "I  have  a  great  deal 
that  I  want  to  say  to  you  now  that  you  are  here. 
I  should  never  have  presumed  to  invite  you.  I'm 
not  worthy  of  that  love  you  say  you  feel." 

"Say  I  feel?" 

"  I'm  not  worthy  of  any  man's  love.  I  hate  my- 
self and — but  we  mustn't  go  on  this  way.  Sit 
there,  please.  Now  let  me  talk  to  you  a  little 
and  then  you  can  bid  me  good-bye  and  it  will  be — 
all  over." 

For  the  life  of  her,  for  the  soul  of  her,  she  could 
not  help  the  break  in  her  voice  then.  Warburton 
noticed  it  but  he  did  not  dare  to  presume.  He  was 
sensible  that  the  crisis  in  his  fortunes  and  hers 


410          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

had  arrived.  Rude  handling  of  the  delicate  situ- 
ation might  shatter  for  ever  the  hope  that  would 
spring  up  in  his  breast,  that  would  not  down. 
At  least  they  were  together  in  the  same  room  talk- 
ing intimately.  That  was  something  gained.  He 
followed  her  direction  without  hesitation. 

"It  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  say  things  that 
pain  you,  I'm  afraid, "  she  began. 

"I  should  rather  hear  you  say  things  that  pain 
me  than  hear  anything  from  anybody  else,  so  long 
as  it  is  you  who  speak,"  he  protested. 

"After  I  got  that  divorce  which  you  told  me  to 
get — "  she  could  not  resist  that  thrust. 

"Would  that  my  tongue  had  been  paralysed 
before  I  made  the  suggestion,  but  I  thought — 

"Yes,  you  thought  and  I  thought  that  I  loved 
Mr.  Neyland,  but  I  found  out  that  I  did  not  and 
until  this  afternoon  I  thought  that  my  telling  him 
so  had  caused  him  to  kill  himself,  but  now  I  know 
that  he  did  not  open  my  letter  and  that  burden  has 
been  lifted  from  me — thank  God.  But  I  don't 
want  to  talk  of  him.  I  know  that  you  are  a  ruined 
man  and  I  want  to  give  you  my  share  of  the  profits 
of  Mr.  Neyland' s  combination  that  were  made  by 
the  investment  of  my  fortune.  I  want  you  to  take 
that  to  start  with.  I  shall  have  my  own  fortune 
left,  which  will  be  ample  for  my  needs.  I  want  you 
to  know  that  I'm  not  going  to  take  Mr.  Neyland' s 
money.  That  shall  be  given  away  where  it  will 
do  the  most  good  to  people  who  may  thereby 
rise  up  in  after  years  and  call  him  blessed.  What 


The  Surrender  411 

I  am  giving  you  is  my  own  or  rather  it  is  our 
own." 

" But  I  couldn't." 

"You  must,"  she  returned  promptly  with  a 
pretty  insistence  that  delighted  him.  "I  know 
what  my  father  left  me  was  only  a  trifle  compared 
with  what  you  made  of  it  by  your  judicious 
investments.  Colonel  Tayloe  told  me  that,  so 
really  it  is  your  own.  Oh,  please,  won't  you  take 
it  from  me?  I'll  tell  you  something  else,"  she  went 
on  as  he  stared  at  her  in  growing  surprise.  "I 
had  this  in  mind  when  I  gave  my  securities  to  Mr. 
Neyland.  I  thought  when  the  battle  was  over  I 
would  be  in  a  position  to  give  you  back  all  that 
had  been  made  for  me.  You  will  take  it?  I  told 
Colonel  Tayloe  that  he  must  make  you  but  he  said 
that  was  impossible,  that  you  would  know  and  he 
couldn't  do  it.  I  didn't  know  how  I  was  to  bring  it 
about  but  since  you  came  to  me  here — and  I 
wouldn't  for  a  moment  have  you  feel  that  I'm  not 
glad  that  you  came — I  think  the  best  way  is  to  tell 
you  plainly,  and  ask  you  please  to  give  me  this 
chance  to  make  amends. " 

"  Christianna,"  he  said  unconsciously  continuing 
the  old  form  of  address  and  for  the  third  time  in 
her  life  she  rejoiced  in  the  quaint  name,  which  no 
one  else  had  ever  employed,  "before  I  accede  to 
your  request 

"Oh,  then  you  will?" 

"  Let  me  ask  you  a  question.  Will  you  answer 
it?" 


412          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"Yes." 

"You  refused  to  marry  Richard  Neyland?" 

"I  did." 

"Was  it  because  you  found  that  you  did  not 
love  him?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  woman,  her  voice  a  low 
whisper,  her  heart  at  a  standstill. 

"And  does  that  mean  that — "  He  could 
scarcely  bear  to  put  the  question.  "  Do  you  think 
you  could  learn — Oh  God!"  he  cried  rising  and 
coming  toward  her.  She  drew  back  a  little  but 
did  not  rise  or  lift  her  head.  "  Do  you  think  that 
you — I  dare  not  ask.  My  whole  future  turns  on 
the  question.  Life  or  death,  heaven  or  hell,  are  in 
your  answer." 

"Speak  on,"  she  whispered 

"Do  you  think  you  could  learn  to — care — a — 
little— for  me?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Ah,"  said  the  man  almost  as  if  he  had  been 
stabbed.  "I  was  a  fool  to  dream  it." 

"Not  a  fool,"  she  interposed  swiftly,  "but 
blind." 

"Blind!" 

"Yes." 

She  rose  slowly  to  her  feet  and  forced  herself 
to  look  at  him.  Into  her  cheeks  came  a  flame 
like  a  flag.  Boldly  she  spoke  and  well. 

"I  couldn't  learn  to  love  you  a  little  because 
I— I- 

"  Christianna, "  he  cried  seizing  her  in  his  arms. 


The  Surrender  413 

He  lifted  her  little  figure  up  in  the  air  and  then 
brought  her  down  and  held  her  close  against  his 
heart.  If  he  had  only  acted  that  way  before,  she 
thought.  And  then  he  kissed  her  upon  the  lips 
as  he  had  never  kissed  her  before  and  she  did  not 
withdraw  her  own  from  him.  At  last  he  released 
her  a  little  and  as  she  could  free  an  arm  she  slipped 
it  around  his  neck  and  gave  him  back  caress  for 
caress,  met  endearment  with  endearment,  heart 
throb  with  heart  throb.  The  man  sank  down 
on  his  knees  before  her.  He  stretched  his  hands 
up  toward  her  as  a  devotee  of  old  might  have  wor- 
shipped a  divinity. 

"Not  that  way,"  she  said,  stooping  over  him 
and  raising  him  up.  "It  is  I  who  should  be  there. 
I've  been  such  a  wicked  woman.  You  don't  know 
everything." 

"  I  don't  want  to  know,"  he  said  stoutly  although 
his  heart  sank  a  little  and  she  was  quick  to  see  his 
fear. 

"  Oh,  I'm  as  fit  to  be  your  wife  as  any  woman, 
but  I've  been  such  a  fool.  I've  wrecked  my  life 
and  your  own." 

"You  can  repair  mine  and  if  you  give  me  the 
chance  I  will  repair  yours." 

"I  can't.  You  don't  know.  You  remember 
he — he — insulted  me  at  Sorrento  and  I  condoned  it 
and — he  kissed  me  that  evening  you  saw  us  at 
Bermuda  and  once  again  at  Billy  Alton's  house 
before  I  left.  I'm  not  fit  for  such  love  as  yours." 

"You  can't  help  that,"  said  Warburton  practi- 


414          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

cally.  "I'm  sorry  for  those  things,  I  hate  him  for 
them,  but  you  are  mine  and  I'm  not  going  to  give 
you  up." 

"You  must.  I  shall  expiate.  I  want  to  do  some 
good  in  the  world." 

"You  can  do  all  the  good  you  wish  but  you're 
going  to  begin  with  me.  I'll  help  you  do  good 
to  everybody  else.  I've  had  enough  of  business 
and " 

' '  Yes,  if  you  only  had  what  you  had  before.  My 
fortune  won't  go  very  far,  but  you'll  take  it  won't 
you?" 

"On  one  condition. " 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"That  you  give  me  yourself  with  it. " 

"I  cannot.  It  wouldn't  be  right  for  any  human 
being  who  has  behaved  as  I  to  have  such  happi- 
ness. " 

"Very  well  then,  I'll  go  out  a  beggar,  such  a  beg- 
gar as  I  never  dreamed  I  would  be,  having  your 
love  and  not  having  you. " 

"But  don't  you  see  I  can't?  It  would  be 
absurd — I — what  would  the  world  say?" 

"What  do  I  care  what  any  one  says?  You  can, 
you  shall. " 

The  old  masterful  John  Warburton,  whose 
dominance  in  the  past  she  had  hated,  but  which 
now  she  loved,  released  her  and  set  her  down  in  a 
chair  tenderly  but  rather  forcibly  nevertheless  and 
then  turned  to  the  door. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 


The  Surrender  415 

"To  call  Father  Smith." 

"What  for?" 

"To  marry  us  again." 

"Oh,  but  I " 

He  paid  no  attention  to  her  protestations. 
Father  Smith  was  close  at  hand.  At  his  name 
he  came. 

"Well,"  he  said  to  Warburton,  "was  I  right?" 

"Right,"  exclaimed  the  man,  "God  bless  you 
for  ever!" 

"Did  you  tell  him  what  I  said?"  asked  the 
woman. 

"Not  one  word." 

"Then  how?" 

"I  just  brought  him  here.  You  did  not  swear 
me  not  to  do  that.  " 

"I'm  glad  that  you  did,"  said  the  girl,  "and 
now  I  want  you  to  tell  him  that  I  cannot  marry 
him,  that  I  have  not  been  punished  enough,  that  I 
should  not " 

"Can't  marry  him!"  exclaimed  the  old  man  to 
their  great  astonishment,  "why  you  are  married 
to  him  already. " 

"But  the  divorce,"  faltered  Chrissey. 

"'Whom  God  hath  joined,'"  said  the  Priest 
solemnly,  "no  power  can  put  asunder." 

"You  see,"  said  Warburton,  "he  agrees  with 
me.  You  are  my  wife  already.  You  have  always 
been  my  wife.  I  was  going  to  ask  you  to  marry  us 
again  but  it  is  unnecessary.  " 

"Of  course,"  said  the  zealous  old  Churchman, 


416         Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

"you  have  been  married  by  the  Church  and  by 
nothing  you  can  do,  by  no  means  that  you  can 
employ,  can  you  unmarry  yourselves. " 

"Is  that  the  Church's  view?"  asked  the  woman. 

"Most  certainly." 

"But  if  you  can't  marry  us,  what  about 
divorce?" 

"Let  the  State  undo  what  it  has  done," 
answered  Father  Smith  tersely.  "If  the  State 
unmarried  you  or  pretended  to  do  so,  in  order  to 
comply  with  all  the  requirements  of  the  law  and  to 
stand  legally  man  and  wife,  as  you  are  morally 
man  and  wife,  go  and  get  yourselves  married  again 
by  the  State. " 

"Do  you  mean  by  a  justice  of  the  peace?  I 
couldn't  bear  that, "  exclaimed  the  woman. 

"You  must,  but  after  that  come  to  me,"  said 
the  inexorable  old  man.  "I'll  get  the  Rector 
to  let  us  have  the  Little  Church  Around  the  Corner 
and  after  you  have  been  remarried  by  the  State, 
which  presumed  to  unmarry  you,  come  there. " 

"And  you  will  marry  us  again?" 

"No,  but  I  will  give  you  the  Church's  blessing 
on  your  amendment  and  reparation.  And  may 
you  both  be  very  happy  as  I  am  sure  you  will. 
You  have  been  led  through  devious  paths  into  each 
other's  arms.  It  has  been  given  you  after  days  of 
blindness  at  last  to  see  each  other's  hearts.  What 
has  passed  you  can  never  forget  but  together  you 
can  rise  in  love  above  the  remembrance." 


CHAPTER  XLII 

ONCE  MORE  A  WEDDING  NIGHT 

IT  was  quite  a  different  service  and  ceremony — 
that  little  sacramental  rite  of  prayers  and  blessings 
— from  that  at  St.  Thomas's  less  than  a  year  before. 
There  were  present  only  the  Duke,  the  Duchess, 
old  Colonel  Tayloe,  and  the  faithful  maid,  yes 
lurking  in  a  far  corner  was  poor,  forlorn  Billy 
Alton,  unobserved  by  all  except  a  plain  humble 
man  named  Judson,  who  was  thinking  of  his  master 
and  what  might  have  been,  as  old  Father  Smith 
laid  his  hands  in  benediction  upon  the  two  bowed 
heads,  John  Warburton's  streaked  with  grey  from 
what  he  had  gone  through,  Chrissey  de  Selden's 
midnight  crown  still  untouched  with  the  white  of 
years  and  troubles. 

In  the  big  car  once  more,  the  farewells  said,  the 
two  who  had  come  together  after  such  far  voyaging 
through  such  troubled  seas  were  at  last  alone. 

"Where  are  you  taking  me?"  asked  the  girl. 

"To  the  house  in  the  hills  where  we  went  before. 
We  will  take  up  the  thread  of  life  just  where  we 
broke  it  off. " 

"Yes,"  whispered  the  woman,  nestling  close  to 
27  417 


418          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

him  and  resting  her  head  against  his  shoulder  and 
slipping  her  hand  within  his  own.^ 

They  would  have  much  to  talk  about  in  the 
future,  these  two,  but  as  they  swiftly  sped  over  the 
smooth  roads  toward  the  lodge  in  the  wild  hills 
overlooking  the  great  river  it  was  heart  that  spoke 
to  heart,  hand  pressure  that  met  hand  pressure,  in 
the  silence.  Once  only  did  Warburton  venture 
upon  a  bit  of  rational  conversation. 

"My  dearest  wife,"  he  began  in  that  somewhat 
old-fashioned  way,  chosing  an  opportune  moment. 
"I  can't  begin  our  married  life  without  perfect 
confidence  and  I  have  a  confession  to  make." 

"Do  you  love  me  still,  John?" 

"More  than  ever." 

"So  long  as  that  is  true  nothing  else  matters.'* 

"Good!  You  make  it  easy,"  but  he  hesitated 
nevertheless. 

"Go  on,"  she  said  at  last. 

"Well,  the  fact  is  I'm  not  quite  the  beggar  you 
thought  me. " 

" Did  you  save  something  from  the  wreck?" 

"Er— yes— a  little." 

"  Then  that  added  to  what  I  made  will  be  enough 
won't  it?  For  now  all  that  I  have  is  yours." 

"Yes,  but,  well, — the  fact  is  I  didn't  lose." 

"What!" 

"No,  I  wasn't  beaten." 

"Did  you  win?  "  she  asked  in  an  awestruck  voice, 
thinking  if  that  were  true  how  poor  Neyland  had 
indeed  lost  everything. 


Once  More  a  Wedding  Night    419 

"  I  did, "  he  answered,  and  somehow  he  seemed! 
to  experience  an  odd  feeling  of  shame  in  the  situ- 
ation, just  why  he  could  not  tell. 

"Then  you  don't  need  my  poor  little  money," 
she  said  at  last  in  deep  disappointment,  "and  I  was 
so  glad  to  give  it  to  you. " 

"You  have  given  me  yourself,  Christianna, 
dearest  little  wife  in  the  world,  and  no  gift  could 
equal  that." 

"I  know  but — John  Warburton,"  she  exclaimed, 
suddenly  seeing  the  truth  at  last,  "if  you  won  I 
lost  with  the  rest." 

He  averted  his  face. 

"Answer  me,"  she  persisted.  "Was  I  ruined 
too?" 

"I  tried  my  best  to  save  your  fortune,  I  would 
have  given  it  back  to  you,  I 

"And  have  I  anything  of  my  own?" 

"  Only  me, "  very  humbly  he  spoke,  "  and  all  that 
I  have  is  yours,"  he  added  softly. 

"You're  enough,"  said  the  woman  nestling 
against  him. 

So  that  danger  was  past  and  over.  Only  she  was 
sorry  that  she  could  not  get  away  from  the  con- 
sciousness of  Ney land's  double  failure.  At  that 
hour  to  have  to  think  of  him!  Alas!  she  was 
doomed  to  find  the  thought  of  him  obtruding  in 
other  hours  as  inopportune  as  that — and  thus  part 
of  her  punishment  came. 

Everything  at  the  lodge  was  just  as  it  had  been 
before.  Nothing  had  been  changed.  The  same 


420          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

servants,  carefully  trained  to  give  no  expression  to 
their  surprise,  awaited  them.  They  sat  for  a  little 
time  after  breaking  bread  together  while  the  sun 
set  and  the  darkness  came  and  then  the  woman 
rose.  She  put  her  hand  upon  her  husband's  shoul- 
der to  keep  him  where  he  was  in  his  chair.  She 
bent  and  kissed  him. 

"In  a  few  moments,"  she  said  and  she  was' 
gone. 

So  she  came  again  into  that  room  which  she  had 
entered  in  so  different  a  mood  not  a  year  before. 
She  stood  and  looked  about  at  the  familiar  objects. 
Nothing  had  been  changed.  Through  the  open 
windows  the  night  wind  stirred  softly  the  pines  in 
the  hills.  How  she  loved  the  wholesome  fragrance 
of  the  great  conifers!  So  much  more  appealing  to 
her  soul  than  the  heavy  cloying  perfume  of  olean- 
ders— ah!  No,  she  would  think  of  nothing  but  of 
her  husband,  waiting  below,  as  she  would  presently 
await  him  above. 

She  remembered  how  afraid  and  cold  at  heart 
and  filled  with  terror  she  had  been  on  that  other 
night.  Now  her  heart  beat  warmly  beneath  her 
still  virginal  bosom.  Love — and  all  was  different. 
A  wave  of  feeling  swept  over  her,  a  rush  of  colour 
came  to  her  cheeks;  her  neck,  her  whole  body 
was  flooded  with  it.  Now  her  hand  went  slowly 
to  the  brooch  that  clasped  her  dress  low  at  her 
throat. 

Warburton  could  not  sit  still.  He  got  up  and 
walked  across  the  room  and  opened  a  window  look- 


Once  More  a  Wedding  Night     421 

ing  out  upon  the  river.  It  was  a  heavenly  night, 
the  moon  high  in  the  heavens  flooded  the  valley 
with  light.  The  great  still,  slow-moving  deep  of 
the  river  gleamed  white  before  him.  His  love  was 
like  that  river.  And  she?  The  moon  was  not 
fairer,  purer,  or  higher  above  him.  He  thanked 
God  for  the  strong,  sweet  odour  of  the  pines.  No 
tropic  sweetness  of  oleander — ah!  No,  he  would 
think  of  nothing  but  of  his  wife  whom  he  heard 
moving  overhead. 

He  closed  the  window  and  went  to  the  foot  of 
the  stairs  and  stood  leaning  lightly  against  the 
newel  post.  He  waited  there  with  bended  head. 
He  did  not  dare  to  look  up.  And  he  could  not  go 
until  she  called  him.  He  had  said  it  long  ago.  He 
found  he  needed  the  massive  post  of  the  rail  to 
steady  him.  His  heart  beat  so  that  it  shook 
him. 

As  he  listened  there  came  a  gentle  click-clacking 
of  heels  along  the  hall.  It  stopped  hard  by  and  still 
he  could  not  raise  his  head.  He  had  sworn  that 
she  must  summon  him.  He  waited  for  her  word, 
acutely  conscious  of  her  nearness.  A  voice 
breathed  his  name.  Then  at  last  he  raised  his 
head. 

From  a  cloud  of  delicate  white  drapery  she  stood 
looking  down  upon  him,  a  little  smile  upon  her  face, 
the  whiteness  of  her  robe  accentuated  by  the  light 
and  colour  that  flamed  in  her  cheeks,  seen  clearly  in 
the  soft  light  of  the  room.  She,  too,  was  trembling. 
Her  body  shook  with  her  emotion.  In  her  hand 


422          Whom  God  Hath  Joined 

she  held  something  bright  that  gleamed  in  the 
electric  light  like  gold  and  silver.  It  was  the  key 
of  a  door! 

As  he   stared  she  breathed  his  name  a  second 
time.     Then  John,  the  victor,  mounted  the  stair. 


THE  END. 


Jl  Selection  from  the 
Catalogue  of 

G.  F.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Complete  Catalogue  sent 
on  application 


And  Thus  He  Came 

By 

Cyrus  Townsend  Brady 

72°.     Illustrated  in  Color 

A  Christmas  fantasy  in  which  Jesus 
becomes  a  determining  influence  in  the 
crises  of  human  lives.  The  reader 
is  given  glimpses  of  touching  little  pic- 
tures ranging  from  the  lighted  ball- 
rooms of  society  to  the  hopeless  poverty 
of  the  slums,  and  of  the  need  which  in 
their  several  ways  the  children  of  men 
have  for  aid  and  solace  from  the  Saviour 
of  mankind. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


The 
Breath  of  the  Dragon 

A  Romance  of  Modern  China 
By 

A.  H.  Fitch 

The  story  deals  in  part  with  Legation 
life  in  Peking  but  mainly  with  events  in 
the  imperial  palace  and  among  the  people 
and  the  beggars  of  Peking.  A  perfectly 
correct  portrayal  of  that  extraordinary 
character,  the  Empress  Dowager,  is 
given.  While  not  an  historical  novel, 
the  romance  contains  historical  truths. 
The  author  is  a  niece  of  a  former  U.  S. 
Minister  to  China  and  lived  there  with 
her  aunt  and  uncle  for  two  years. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 
New  York  London 


The  Cab  of  the 
Sleeping  Horse 

By 
John  Reed  Scott 

Author  of  "The  Colonel  of  the  Red  Hussars,"  etc. 
72°.     Color  Frontispiece.     Price,  $135 

From  the  moment  of  the  discovery  by  the 
hero  of  the  trampled  roses  and  the  cypher 
message  in  the  driverless  cab,  the  horse  of 
which  is  peacefully  slumbering,  up  to  the  end 
of  the  final  page,  this  story  of  diplomatic 
intrigue  in  Washington  of  today  moves  with 
never  a  halt.  Readers  familiar  with  the  earlier 
books  by  Mr.  Scott  need  not  be  reminded 
that  when  he  chooses  to  write  a  delightful  love 
story  with  an  accompaniment  of  this  sort  no 
one  should  start  to  read  it  unless  ready  to 
continue  to  the  end  without  putting  it  down. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


Desmond's  Daughter 

By 
Maud   Diver 

Author    of    "Captain    Desmond,    V.C.,"    "The    Great 

Amulet,"  "The  Hero  of  Herat,"  "The 

Judgment  of  the  Sword,"  etc. 

Readers  of  Captain  Desmond,  V.C.,  The 
Great  Amulet,  and  Candles  in  the  Wind  will 
welcome  the  addition  to  this  trilogy  of 
another  glowing  Anglo-Indian  tale,  in- 
cluding the  true  story  of  the  Tirah 
campaign.  The  Daughter  has  the 
strength  of  personality  that  one  would 
expect  from  the  offspring  of  so  virile  a 
character,  and  the  scenes  of  Anglo- 
Indian  life  are  the  true,  thrilling  scenes 
that  have  won  fame  for  the  author. 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


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